Shattered World
by Aesheri
Summary: Completely and utterly abandoned.
1. Revealing the Hidden

**Title: **Shattered World.

**Summary: **

_After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?_  
><em>The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal?<em>

**Pairings:** Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction.

**Warning:** Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse of the physical kind, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), possibly more warnings to come.

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><p><strong>Chapter one:<strong>**_Revealing the hidden._**

Spreading his legs open wide, like a common five knuts whore, Harry Potter lay panting on his bed. Eyes were closed, while his mouth was slightly open, moans and pleas spilling from the sinning mouth. Twisting on top of the covers on his little mattress, he was sweating a river.

Suddenly, eyes snapped open. The moment his eyes snapped into awareness, his body stilled. Laying in the bed silently, not moving a muscle, Harry was frozen. After a few tense seconds, he cursed out loud, biting his tongue painfully. He had done it, again! Again he had that dream, that sinful, delicious dream.

Groaning softly, he sagged on his bed. There was no denying it, he was lusting over the ones in his dreams. Yes, you heard that correctly. Harry was dreaming over not only one, but two mysterious persons. Every night those dreams came back, haunting him, pleasuring his body, only for him to wake up at the most inopportune moments.

Biting his lip, Harry´s resolve shattered. With a slightly ashamed look, he reached in his pajama pants, gripping his swollen erection slightly. Every night he had to wank to get off, the pleasure that filled him unable to fade away otherwise. No, he was screwed. He knew he was at the mercy of the persons he was dreaming about. And if those persons ever found out that he had such dreams involving them, he would be dead. No, worse, they would tell. Humiliate. Bully.

A sob wracked his beaten body, while tears spilled over his cheeks. They were too far away. Never would he be able to get them, to taste them, to let them into his life, to be with them. They would just laugh at him, and turn him away. For he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the one they hated with every fiber of their beings. He knew that was how it was, how it has always been. He knew that was how it would always be. For, why would they ever want him? Ugly, bruised Harry Potter? The Gryffindor Golden boy? Pawn of the Light side?

Harry couldn't stop with sobbing, even as he brought himself to his climax. As pleasurable as his dreams might be, the moments after were anything but. They were slowly killing him, the mystery people in his dreams were slowly killing him. Without even knowing what they were doing, without knowing what was going on with Harry, they were destroying him. And if they ever found out, it might just already be too late.

For he was a shell. Empty and alone. He needed someone to complete him, to care for him, to fill his cold and frozen heart. Harry had long since stopped caring for the people who had betrayed him. Even though one might not see it clearly, he had been hurt when his friends had betrayed him. When they had turned his back on him after he finished off Voldemort. Unable to stand the betrayal, he had raged.

Neville Longbottom, what a great friend he was, had dragged him off to the Room of Requirement for him to vent off his anger. While the people who were on his side were now clear, the ones who had betrayed him had hurt him. His heart had frozen over, only warming up to the ones he cared for. No matter how much Luna or Neville might try, they could not mend his inner wounds. Harry now knew that only the two people in his dreams would be able to do that. But as that was unlikely, Harry resigned himself to his fate.

With a soft groan, he finally reached his climax. But he couldn't bask in the afterglow. Disgusted with himself, he went to wash his hands clean. It never felt right. His body would only ever accept the touch of the two others, and as of such, masturbation became something he loathed. It was a necessity after his dreams, but it seemed like a hated task, one he would rather forgo, if he had the choice.

With a sigh, Harry lowered himself on his bed again, ignoring the wet sheets underneath him, touching his bare arse. It would get him a beating from his uncle for sure, for 'indulging in such inhumane acts', but he couldn't care less. All he could care about was his future. Which was looking very grim and dark at the moment.

Rolling over on his side, Harry felt into a deep sleep almost immediately, troubled by his mind which was becoming darker and darker. Soon, he knew, he wasn't going to be able to stop it anymore. Hiding this side from the Light people was becoming harder and harder. No matter how supportive his two friends might be, he was worried about the two from his dreams. Because if they disapproved, Harry would rather kill himself than live. For they were the only reason he still lived. They were his only hope, no matter how slim of a chance they were.

* * *

><p>Weeks had passed, and Harry stood once again in front of the scarlet train which would bring him towards his freedom for 10 months, Hogwarts. Smoke filled the train station, where parents were busy hugging their children or ushering them onto the train.<p>

Looking around slowly, he let his eyes slide over the two regal and aristocratic men from his dreams. Letting his eyes linger for a moment, he took them in. Standing at 6"3, the aristocratic Italian Blaise Zabini was the tallest of the three. Walking slowly towards the train, he almost seemed to be gliding over the light stones of the station. His legs were long, and his strides were even longer. Silky black hair seemed to glow in the sun, giving it a dark blue look. Reaching down to his shoulders, they moved slowly with every step he took. Golden eyes were slowly looking across the station, having an uncaring and uninterested look over them. His strongly tanned skin was contrasting with the pale skin of his second dream guy.

Standing at 6", was the even more aristocratic Draco Malfoy, his school rival for the last 6 years. While he was notably shorter than Blaise, and painfully taller than himself, he had barely reached a poor 5"6, he seemed to think he was above everyone. Looking around in disdain, one could see the hatred for the rest of the people on the station spewing from his eyes.

His hatred was understandable, though. Because to this day, everyone believed him to be a Death Eater, even when he had so soundly denounced the Dark Mark, flipped Voldemort the bird, and had apparated out of Voldemort's mansion before the snake-face had been able to comprehend what had happened.

Blaise Zabini had done the exact same thing, only he had not left immediately. No, he had silently stood in front of Voldemort, easily ducking his curses, before he had said, solemnly: "You will get what you deserve. Death is not something to be meddled with." He had then apparated out of the mansion as well. After Harry had seen this in his dreams, he had been less wary of any activities Draco Malfoy might be doing around school at night. After all, it really wasn't his business to snoop around in matters that did not concern him anymore. If Draco had been a Death Eater, he would've continued looking for information to incriminate Draco with. But as he had rejected the Mark, Harry had stopped snooping. It was only fair, after all.

Back to the present, Harry was marveling on the fact that Draco's hair seemed to reflect light, giving him an angelic look. When, in fact, he was anything but angelic. His tall and lean body easily matched Blaise's strides, and they walked alongside each other, in perfect harmony. It hurt Harry to see that. How he longed to be besides those to men, to be loved and cared for by those men. But alas, it seemed like that just wasn't meant to be.

Harry sighed, and looked down. A hand dropped on his shoulder. Feeling the small hand, Harry plastered a fake smile on his face, and turned around to face Luna Lovegood, who was flanked by Neville Longbottom. Neville was quick to frown deeply at him, and snarl silently: "Drop that smile, Harry. We all know you don't mean it." Harry sighed sadly, and Luna glared at Neville for his lack of tact.

The war had changed both Luna and Neville, a lot. Luna had grown out of her seemingly insane state, and had grown into full Seer abilities. Not that she would ever reveal anything of the future to even her best friends. Something about not wanting to spoil the surprises, or that it was not her time to tell them. She had lost her dreamy and innocent exterior.

Nowadays, almost no one was innocent anymore. War had happened, and that showed on everyone their faces.

Neville had been hit hard by the war as well. Even though it had helped him out of his chubby, insecure state, he had now evolved into a sarcastic fellow, who said what needed to be said, who didn't dance around. He was, in a way, the complete opposite of Luna. Which made them one of the best couples around. They completely complemented each other.

"Don't be a tactless snorkack, Neville." Yes, even though Luna lost her dreamy attitude, she still loved her mysterious creatures very much. Neville snorted silently, but did look Harry with a lopsided grin, offering his apologies.

Harry waved them off. "I know, Neville. But they don't." When Harry said 'they', he waved around with one arm, indicating the reporters which were always present whenever he was outside of school. Wherever he set a foot, he was tailed by at least three reporters. Except around his home, which was entirely wizard free. Except for himself. But whenever he stepped a foot outside of Surrey, he would find himself being tailed. Losing the reporters in the busy muggle world was easy, but losing them in the less crowded and smaller wizarding world had proved to be nearly impossible.

So one can understand why Harry would be glad to leave for Hogwarts once again. He would be assured of having no reporters tailing him all the time, and he could drop the fake smiling. Only Luna and Neville often got to see the real Harry. Not the mask he was underneath the mask of fake smiles, but the real Harry, underneath even that.

They knew the Harry that was frequently crying in empty classrooms, hopelessly clinging to their robes. They knew the Harry that would tell them about his dreams, about the two men he longed for, the two men he needed, and the two men he wouldn't get. They knew that that Harry was slowly breaking down, and dying. They knew that if they weren't able to help Harry this year, all might be lost. For they were sure that Harry wouldn't be able to handle more. More of the abuse that his so-called family put him through, more of the ignorance of the two men he needed. If only Harry would tell them how they could help him, they would have already done so. But as he didn't seem prone to do that any time soon, they would just have to do it themselves.

Looking at each other, Luna and Neville nodded. They made it their new mission. They made it their mission to help Harry back up, and to make the two men understand the real Harry. They were going to do this the slow way, dropping hints here and there, and rarely dropping a downright nuclear bomb on them, if they were being exceptionally clueless. Neville and Luna swore to themselves, that they would help their surrogate brother up again. May God help them, because if Harry didn't make it, they would go on a warpath never seen before, hunting down every single person who had ever hurt Harry, even in the slightest ways.

"We should board the train." Harry whispered, and Luna's eyes snapped towards him. She knew that voice, that slight waver in his tone. He was about to have a mental breakdown. "Go find a compartment, Harry. We shall join you in a few moments." Harry nodded slightly, before firmly putting the mask of the fake smiles on his face, and walking towards the train, disappearing from sight.

Luna turned back towards Neville, and saw his eyes glowing in pure hatred. Hatred for everyone who had done their brother wrong. "We shall get them, Neville. But our first priority is our brother." Neville nodded, his jaw muscles tightening. Luna took a step toward Neville, and, standing on her tip-toes, gave him a peck on the lips. "Now, relax. We need to take care of Harry." Neville and Luna grasped the others hand, before they walked towards the compartment too.

If one had paid any attention to the two of them, they would have felt their magic crackling around them, snapping like silent whips, just waiting to be used, as angry as the humans were.

Disappearing into the train, they silently walked through the corridor. Younger year students quickly parted ways for them, as did the other seventh years after they took a good look at the emotionless face of Neville, and the serious look in the eyes of Luna. Only one couple did not scatter out of the way.

Neville and Luna stopped in front of Blaise and Draco, and the four stared at each other. Neville's jaw muscle tightened again, and Luna shot him a sharp look. After which she turned her attention to Draco. Letting Neville's hand go, she took a snap decision. With two long strides, she was in front of Draco, and glaring up at his surprised and curious silver eyes.

"You shall check your spells this year, or you will answer to me and Neville." Luna spoke in a flat tone, but promises flickered in her eyes. Studying her silently, Draco nodded. "Only if the same courtesy is given to us." Not waiting for an answer, he strolled past them, after Blaise who had already passed Neville and Luna.

Neville's hand darted out, and grabbed Draco by his arm. Tugging him close, he growled slowly: "Trust me, we will know of any harm done, Malfoy. And if we do find out about it, staring at your disemboweled godfather will seem like a fairytale." Draco narrowed his eyes slightly at the threat, not even wincing at the memory of having to see his godfather, Severus Snape, disemboweled in front of him. "That won't be necessary." Draco hissed back, before pulling his arm loose. Glaring at each other for a bit longer, they both then turned away, each pair walking their own paths again.

Luna took hold of Neville's hand again, and smiled. Part one was fulfilled. Draco and Blaise were now curious as to why they had confronted them like this, and would be looking for the answer to that curiosity, even if they did not notice it. Yes, everything had better go to plan. She'd hate to have to curse her brother's, hopefully, future men into the next century.

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><p><em>R&amp;R<em>


	2. An Uncontrollable Itch

**A/N: **If you are interested in seeing a specific pairing in a story, I can write a drabble if you want me too. But, to warn you beforehand, I find myself quite unable to write het pairings. I have only ever touched writing Slash pairings. But feel free to PM me, requesting a drabble. If you do, please be sure to include Who, and What, if you want to see them in a certain situation. Be sure to PM me! :)

**Title:** Shattered World.

**Summary:**

_After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?_  
><em>The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal?<em>

**Pairings**: Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction.

**Warning:** Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse of the physical kind, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), possibly more warnings to come.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: An uncontrollable itch.<strong>

He couldn't breathe.

Short, panicked gasps filled the otherwise quiet compartment. Sitting on the bench, he was hunched in on himself, legs shaking with the spasms wrecking through them. Slender arms were tightly wrapped around his stomach, pressing down on the spasming muscles in the hope of relieving himself a bit. But it was in vain, as sobs started wrecking his body, shaking his whole body like a leaf.

His magic was running wild in the small compartment. Whipping around like a small hurricane, it was wrecking the two benches that adorned the compartment, ripping the leather on them in pieces. The window had shattered ages ago, being the first thing which had been destroyed. But strong wards on the train itself had prevented cold air from entering the compartment. But the window wasn't the only thing which was warded.

As the compartment itself was warded heavily, by none other then Harry himself, no one could see the mental breakdown of one Harry Potter.

The whole summer, he had prepared himself for this, for this moment. He had known that the magic of the two men in his dreams would press down on him, making him vulnerable. He had expected that his magic would try to reach out to them.

But no amount of preparing could have made him ready for what finally did happen. As soon as he had entered the train station, his magic had hummed contently, reaching out to the magics of Blaise and Draco.

But when it hadn't been acknowledged, the happy feelings, which had overwhelmed Harry, had crashed down. It took him all of his willpower to keep standing, and to keep the strong, but negative, emotions from showing on his face. The only outward sign that he had felt something, had been the pained look in his eyes, and his teeth gritting against each other, which he had to do in order to keep himself from screaming in pain and loss.

Only the arrival of his surrogate family had settled his magic enough to keep it from destroying not only the train station, but also his body and everyone else around him. His magic had calmed down after the short interaction he'd had with Luna and Neville, slightly forced by the combined magics of Luna and Neville pressing down on it.

But now that he was in a compartment all by himself, he hoped Luna and Neville would get here soon. Even though it pained him to admit it, not wanting to admit having a weakness, that's what got you killed was what he believed, being with them calmed his hay-wire magic.

Neville simply pressed it down with his equally powerful magic. It was its destructive capability though, that kept Harry's magic at bay, afraid of being destroyed. While Neville would never destroy his brother like that, the possibility was there. Harry felt that, but more importantly, so did his magic. And it didn't want to be destroyed mercilessly, so it calmed down when around Neville.

Luna's magic worked in a different way. Her magic was soft and caring, making it harder for other magic users to hurt her. Their very own magic would protest any attempt. Harry's magic felt the same way, afraid of harming such beautiful and seemingly harmless magic. That is where most people were wrong. Luna, and her magic, were anything but harmless. As non-destructive as her magic might seem, it was nearly as destructive as Neville's when angered or threatened. Indeed, her magic could be downright vicious, slashing at her enemies without mercy while their shields were down. Luna struck when you were at your most vulnerable, and she hit like a herd of Hippogriffs.

Harry, and his magic too of course, knew this very well. And that would be why his magic calmed with Luna near as well. But the only magics which would ever be able to make him and his magic submit completely, would be Blaise Zabini's and Draco Malfoy's their magics. They were the only ones who would be able to keep him in line, to keep him from destroying himself. They were higher on the food-chain then him, they were the dominants, while he was the submissive. This would make his magic submit to them, even if it didn't want to.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, which were bleeding from the amount of biting he had done to keep his screams from filling the compartment and probably breaking through the wards set around his compartment.

Right now, even thinking of the two men sent his magic in a frenzy. It blamed him that they weren't together, that he hadn't approached them yet. It blamed him on the fact that their magics didn't even acknowledge him, as if it was rejecting him. But his magic didn't know that their magics couldn't feel Harry's magics as long as he hadn't approached them about how he felt, how he was around them, how he could not live without them, literally.

Harry was in danger of being destroyed by his magic, being ripped apart mercilessly. Only the magics pressing down on him, Luna's and Neville's magics, kept his own magic from destroying himself from inside out. He had long since lost the tight grip he had had on his magic some time back. His magic had ripped itself free from him, escaping his grasp, owning him.

Instead of him controlling his magic, his magic now controlled the him partly. He would go out of his way to see Blaise and Draco, but his magic couldn't tell him to kill himself. While that was good in its own way, it was also punishing for Harry, because his magic let its displeasure show clearly.

With a sudden hiss, he gripped his head in agony, groaning as a splitting headache settled in place. Just what he needed. Not. Leaning heavily on his side, he rested his feverishly warm forehead against the cold metal wall of the Hogwart's Express. A hiss of joy from Harry declared that the cold did wonders to his headache.

All of sudden though, Harry moaned in ecstasy. Clapping his hands over his mouth quickly, he looked mortified. He didn't know where that had come from, but he was all too happy that there was no one around to hear that embarrassing moan.

But when the cause, or more likely causes, came closer to his compartment, he moaned submissively again, baring his neck slightly, even though there still wasn't anyone to see it. Harry was suddenly very glad that he had warded his compartment so highly that no one would be able to see or hear what was going on. What he hadn't accounted for, though, was for people being able to feel his magic in the air. And not a moment later, to his horror, and his magic's delight, the two magical signatures stopped outside his door.

He groaned again. Just great, now he would have to battle his magic over the fact that it wanted to drop the wards and have a good time with the two just outside the compartment door. He was so screwed if Luna and Neville didn't show up soon.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy was mulling over the words Luna and Neville had...said to him and Blaise. No matter how much he twisted and turned the words in his mind, it was clear to him that they had threatened them. And he was quite sure that they would, and could, hurt them if they didn't abide by the rules which had been set.<p>

As concentrated as Draco was at the moment, thinking about the normally happy-go-lucky Luna Lovegood threatening him, Draco Malfoy, he didn't notice the quite abrupt halt Blaise made. And because he didn't, he bumped into Blaise's back. Stepping back quickly, he rubbed his head in surprise. He hadn't realized that he had lost notice of his surroundings that much.

Blaise glanced at him in amusement, before focusing his attention back on the reason he had stopped walking in the first place. His attention was on a compartment, who looked exactly like the others.

Curious as to what would grab Blaise's attention like that, Draco also turned his attention towards the compartment. Not seeing anything different at the first glance, he gave it a quick run-over with his magic.

Not a moment later, he staggered when he felt the raw and wounded magic which was coming from inside the compartment. Draco swayed slightly at the intensity of the uncontrolled magic, and he felt Blaise steadying him absentmindedly, putting a hand on the small of his back.

Glancing through the glass in the compartment door quickly, his eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Harry Potter inside. Why was Potter exuding such magic, mixed with such strong feelings? Before he could ponder on this some more, he stiffened when he felt a angry, very angry, person standing behind him and Blaise.

"Get your magic away from him, you Italian mongrel!" Snapped a pissed off Neville.

Blaise barely raised an eyebrow, before doing as Neville demanded, letting his magic retreat, making it go back inside him. But apparently, Neville still wasn't too happy with them.

With not a single warning beforehand, Neville had Blaise up against a wall, hand pressed against the Italian's throat, who remained calm even under the threat of being strangled to death. Draco however, was not too keen of the unspoken warning of his boyfriend being strangled to death, and focused his magic on Neville.

All of it.

Luna paled drastically when she realized that, and quickly threw up wards around them and the compartment, to keep anything out, and everything in. No one would notice anything going on inside the wards, just as she had planned.

She had not done this a moment too soon, because not a moment later, screams of agony filled the air. Neville let go off of Blaise immediately, before slamming the door to the compartment wide open, almost breaking it in his hurry to get inside.

What met their eyes, made Draco a Blaise freeze in shock, disbelief clearly visible in their eyes. There, in the middle of the compartment, sat a screaming Harry Potter. His very own hands and nails were tearing open his skin, scratching at the magic, which they could almost _see_, crawling underneath his skin.

Blaise and Draco looked at Harry in horror as they saw his magic trying to tear him apart, trying to kill him. Magic was tearing at his skin, ripping off bits of flesh everywhere, and a crunch was heard as it tried to break a bone.

Luna's and Neville's magics quickly surrounded Harry and his wild magic, but to their shock, they were pushed off. Dazed, they looked at Harry in horror. They had never been pushed away before, his magic had always succumbed to theirs.

Luna was quick to come back to her senses, and turned to Blaise and Draco. "Do what I say, now!" Blaise nodded for both of them, not able to tear his eyes away from the tortured body of Harry. "Unleash your magic, all of it. Even any creature magic you might have. And order Harry's magic to retreat. Don't ask, order!"

Blaise nodded, not fully understanding why she would ask this of them, as she knew that they and the Potter boy weren't close in any way. But he didn't ponder over this much longer, and released all of his magic, while still keeping a tight grip on it. Draco seemed to stare for a bit longer at Luna, more curious about her request then Blaise was, but after a swift glare from Luna, he quickly followed in Blaise's lead.

They saw how Harry's magic paused for a second, as if unsure by the two other magics suddenly filling the compartment, and filling it to the brim, and they hit. Their combined magics started pushing down on Harry's magic, trying to force it back, not allowing it to fight back, to try to control them too. Not that they should have bothered about that, as Harry's magic seemed to falter under their attention and act like a chastised child.

Harry himself was quickly reduced to a whimpering and bloody boy, curled up in himself in a corner of a destroyed compartment. How he had done that, was everyone's best guess, as the train had been thoroughly warded against it being destroyed. Not good enough though, apparently.

Blaise and Draco continued to deftly command their magic, and Harry's magic readily receded, properly chastised.

When the magic around Harry had disappeared, Blaise and Draco made their own magics recede once again, but not before Blaise had sent a wave of healing magic over Harry's fragile and unconscious body. The wounds that had been on Harry's body slowly healed and any marks faded away. Flesh repaired itself as well, and the rib his magic had broken healed as well. After a minute of silent healing, Harry was as good as new again.

Not a moment later, Blaise looked up, straight into Neville's eyes. "I will have a training session with him twice a week. Wednesdays and Sundays, no excuses." It wasn't a question.

Luna and Neville grinned at each other. This was a opportunity too perfect to pass up on.

"On two conditions," Luna said in a dreamy voice, eyes far-away, "Draco will be there too," Insert a surprised look from Draco for the use of his first name, "and you two shall tell his magic at the end of every session that it should back off." Blaise looked her over once, slowly, before nodding.

Luna's eyes turned icy. "and if you hurt him, I'll make sure you're used as a boy-toy in a muggle brothel."

Luna just invited herself into a staring match with Blaise, while Draco was silently amused by the threat. Not that he didn't think Luna's threat wasn't sincere. No, it probably was very much a threat they should take in account. They would have to make sure not to hurt Harry. Glancing at Harry, Draco winced. If only they could stop Harry form hurting himself.

But right now, Luna was still having a staring match with a slightly disturbed Blaise. She hadn't blinked once so far.

"Agreed." Blaise said slowly, and Luna immediately did a 360, and morphed back into her cheerful self. She clapped her hands in excitement, and her eyes were sparkling. "Excellent! Now, I believe that we have arrived at Hogsmeade." Blaise and Draco nodded at the obvious dismissal, glancing once more at Harry, who was being cared for by Neville. Turning around as one, they walked away, leaving a beaming Luna and a amused Neville behind, who had lain Harry on one of the benches, getting ready to wake him up. A quick "Enervate" had Harry's eyes snapping open.

* * *

><p>As soon as Harry had felt first Blaise's, and then Draco's, magics slip away because of the arrival of Luna and Neville, he had panicked. His eyes had widened, and he had scrambled to get a grip on his magic.<p>

But it was in vain.

His magic took that retreat of their magic as a rejection, and turned on Harry. As soon as his magic ripped into him, he screamed in agony, landing on the floor of the compartment with a gasp. Knees hit the floor hard, probably leaving some bruising there. His nails dug into the skin on his palms, trying to stop himself from screaming again.

It was then that the itching started. Stinging sensations started to form underneath the skin of his face, and before he could tell himself it was just an illusion created by his magic, he had started scratching. Nails were scraping over his skin, not deep enough to start to bleed, but still scraping off the first layer of his flesh. When this didn't relief him of the itches, he dug his nails deeper into his skin, drawing blood.

He barely noticed it when the door of the compartment smashed open, so concentrated he was on peeling every bit of itching skin from his body.

It was not a moment later that he felt Luna's and Neville's magics, but it felt vague, and far away. In a fleeting second, Harry noted to himself that they were being ignored by his magic, but Harry was more driven to scratch the itches away then to wonder at that some more. 'Just keep scratching, scratching, scratching.' He thought to himself.

But just before he could peel off another bit of his skin, strong and compelling magic filled the air, making his magic waver, suddenly unsure. When the strong magic was followed by another equally strong, but slightly more submissive magic, Harry started to whimper softly. His scratching slowly stopped, afraid to move without the consent of the heavy magic filling the air.

A few seconds of silence filled the compartment, where nobody moved, not even the different magics. Then, they attacked.

Harry's eyes widened in fright as the magic around him came crashing down on him, pressing heavily on him. Afraid of being squashed, he curled in on himself, trying to protect his body, but he knew it would be in vain. Magic would just rip through him like he was nothing but a piece of paper, only seeing him as an obstacle that could easily be overcome.

When he felt nothing ripping away at him though, he opened his eyes a bit. And what he saw, had him staring in amazement. He saw how the magics, the strange magics, were pressing down on the magic that had left his body partly to punish him. His own magic was not attacking the others, it just was there, being pressed back towards his body.

Harry gave another soft whimper as he felt his magic slowly entering his body again, relief showing on his face. When his magic fully clicked back inside of him, he let out a sigh of relief, before his eyes rolled up and away. Mind and vision darkening, the last thing he could make out was a worried Neville catching him as he fell towards the ground. He blacked out not a few moments after that, blissfully unconscious.

* * *

><p><em>R&amp;R<em>


	3. A Look in the Past

**Title:** Shattered World.

**Summary:  
><strong>_After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?_

_The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal?_

**Pairings:** Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction.

**Warning:** Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse of the physical kind, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), possibly more warnings to come. **Oh, and for those who didn't notice it yet, Slash. BL, Yaoi, Horny Gay Sex. Not in this chapter, but it will be mentioned enough. Don't like? No need to tell me, I probably already know.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: A Look in the Past.<strong>

He sat shaking in a dark, damp corner in an abandoned part of Malfoy Manor. A palm was firmly pressed against his mouth, in a vain attempt to stop the anguished sobs from ringing through the empty halls of the manor. His body was trembling wildly, spams wrecking his body as he tried to stop the tears from flowing down his gray colored face.

Disgusted with himself, he pulled up the sleeve which covered up his left arm.. Staring at his still unblemished forearm, Draco Malfoy let out a whimper in fright. Fright of what he would have to do by this time tomorrow. Fear at losing his mind, forced through the murdering and raping of innocents.

Pushing his sleeve in place again, he shivered. His father had planned for his Marking ceremony to happen tomorrow, at 10.00. Tomorrow at 10.00, he would lose everything he held dear. He would lose his mother, for she was already going mad over the thought of her only son getting that blasted tattoo.

He would lose his lover, his boyfriend, Blaise Zabini. He was going to be Marked tomorrow as well, and both boys feared that the unevitable would happen. That the horrors of the crimes they would be forced to commit would break them apart. Draco was sure that that'd be what would break him, the loss of Blaise. Let is sound girly, but Blaise completed him, filled a gap in his heart he hadn't known was there before. And just like he knew how Blaise completed him, he also knew how he would lose his mind without Blaise. That couldn't happen.

Draco's eyes turned icy, all symptoms of crying leaving his body as he straightened himself. He wouldn't allow it. No one but him would have any say about how he lived his life. He was going to live however he wanted, not how Voldemort wanted him to live. And definitely not how his father wanted him to live, bowing down to a maniac, who would die soon either way. Draco was very confident in Harry Potter's ability to defeat Voldemort. That did not mean, however, that Draco would let himself be branded by that beast until Harry killed him. The Mark would forever haunt him.

Steeling himself, Draco swiftly stood. He brushed his robes clean with his hands, flattening his hair after that. He made sure to look at least presentable, before going downstairs towards the festivities. He would have to tell them what they wanted to hear. Sending a quick prayer for his sickly mother, he stepped inside the great dining hall.

At least fifty faces turned towards him, facing him, and Draco quickly recognized them as Death Eaters, or soon to be Death Eaters. Locking eyes with a stony looking Blaise, Draco realized what his decision was with a quick glance.

Turning his attention back to his impatient father, he took a deep breath. And then, Draco said the one word his father so desperately wanted to hear.

"Yes".

Smirks started to form on everyone's faces, but Draco only looked at Blaise. Blaise nodded, acknowledging his lie with a small and rare grin.

Draco smirked gleefully. It had never felt this great to tell an outright lie.

* * *

><p>Blaise hadn't had a nervous breakdown like Draco had. Having remained calm, he had greatly freaked his mother out when he had only glared at her and not outright killed her for even mentioning it.<p>

Apparently, his mother didn't want to be neutral anymore.

After he'd made sure to show his mother just how disappointed he was, he took his leave to his room. Sinking down on his extremely soft, king-sized bed, his gaze turned troubled. While he might not normally show it on the outside, he was worried about Draco. Blaise might not give a fuck about what other people thought of him, thus making him do whatever he damn well wanted, but Draco did care. He cared about what people thought of him, he cared about his family, friends and lover. But Blaise didn't know if he'd be enough reason for Draco to refuse the Mark, or if he would continue doing what his family expected.

Blaise sighed, dropping his head in his hands in a rare show of emotions other than indifference. If Draco did end up taking the Mark, Blaise knew he would follow. He wouldn't allow his lover to go through all the horror alone.

Looking up, his eyes were almost spitting fire. No. He would need to make sure that Draco wouldn't choose that path.

Nodding to himself, Blaise calmly walked downstairs. Swiftly passing his pale mother, he strode towards the fireplace. Grabbing a pinch of floopowder, he tossed it inside the fireplace. Green flames flared to life, and Blaise stepped inside. Murmuring his destination silently, Blaise was quickly lost in the travel space between fireplaces.

Colors and livingrooms flashed in front of his eyes. While this would have distracted any first time users, Blaise didn't even notice it anymore. Feeling himself slowing down, he stepped out of the fireplace calmly. Though that calm quickly disappeared.

Blaise had floo-d directly into the Malfoy dining room, knowing that he was taking a huge risk by doing so. But to be honest, he couldn't get himself to give a damn. Standing all around him were Death Eaters. All of them were walking around the room, bragging, eating, bragging, talking to Lucius and bragging, not even paying him any attention, having recognized him as the powerful Zabini Heir.

Blaise quickly scanned the room, not finding Draco present. Blaise's unease grew, but he kept himself still, rooted to the spot. Glancing at the Death Eaters with caution, he saw how they seemed anxious, as if waiting for something to happen. Before he could ponder that however, the doors to the dining hall opened slowly.

All heads immediately turned to the door, waiting with held breaths for the person to show him- herself.

Blaise's eyes widened slightly as Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway, looking highly uncomfortable. Staring at the boy, he saw him glancing around unsure, before his eyes focused on him. Suddenly, Draco smiled, almost invisible, before turning back towards the Death Eaters assembled in the dining hall. Blaise was pleased when he saw the slight smile playing on Draco's lips. That meant the Malfoy had something planned. And Draco never backed out of any of his plans, not if he had any say about it.

Draco was now looking straight at his father, giving him a slight grin. Lucius looked proud, as if he knew Draco's decision already. Of course, because if Draco didn't choose the decision Lucius wanted him to choose, Draco would end up disowned and homeless faster than Voldemort could say _Crucio_.

Looking sure of himself, a mask which Blaise had no problem seeing past, Draco said, sounding as confident as he looked to the Death Eaters: "Yes".

Everyone knew what that meant. Everyone knew the meaning of that little word. The word which would change their lives.

Blaise smirked to himself, knowing that he would have to play along in this little game. Otherwise, it wouldn't be as fun.

Stepping forward, Death Eaters paused and stepped away when they saw his shit-eating grin. It was common knowledge with the Death Eaters, and most purebloods of the Wizarding World, that the Zabini's were a family of maniacs. They choose to do what they wanted to do. They obeyed no one. If they choose a way of life, who were you to change it? It is why Voldemort had never gained any Zabini follower. They were too stubborn, too sneaky, and way too high up the ladder for him to even consider blackmailing. The Zabini's would have dirt on him faster than Potter could catch the snitch on a good day.

And it took Potter 5 minutes to catch the snitch on a 'meh' day.

The Death Eaters quickly split up, moving to two sides of the dining hall, and Lucius looked at them as he noticed movement among the number of people in his dining room. But when the last Death Eaters parted, those in front of him, he knew why. Blaise Zabini was standing in front of him, grinning like a maniac, sharp canine teeth glinting at him.

Those canine teeth are a trait every Zabini is born with. They are part of the feral family, and are one of the ways to see if the person is a real Zabini or not. But those sharp teeth weren't tiny, kitty teeth. No, they could elongate if a Zabini was really pissed off. Those teeth were probably more dangerous than most of the Death Eaters present are.

Blaise, still standing in front of Lucius, slowly looked up and down the man's body, before rudely dismissing him.

It was not a secret, in the pureblood circles, that the Malfoys were amongst the most powerful families in the Wizarding world. But they were still beneath the Zabinis, Potters and the Blacks. Zabinis were at the top of the, how shall we call it, food chain of the Wizarding World. To have one of the richest and most important members of the Wizarding World standing in the middle of what seemed to be a Death Eater conference, was something Lucius could barely believe. This would mean a change of tides in the war. If Zabini joined them, the rest of the clan was soon to follow! Indeed, no one in the Zabini clan would ever go against the wishes of the Heir, soon to be Head of House.

Stepping past Lucius, Blaise came to stand in front of Draco, who was looking at him in awe. Fake awe though, because he just looked bemused to Blaise. Draco had long since stopped looking at Blaise in complete awe and jealousy, because Blaise had made sure to….beat it out of him. Draco looked at his eyes for a while longer, but only saw the dark amusement in his eyes. Great. His lover had planned something. And when Blaise did something, he usually brought violence and chaos with him. It would be total mayhem.

Turning around, Blaise faced the crowd of Death Eaters standing before him. He looked silently over the mass of people, before focusing on one of the newbies. The new Death Eater shrank in on himself, trying to become invisible without the use of a single spell.

Blaise snorted in amusement, and he saw the Death Eaters wince.

Good. They still knew that they should fear the Zabinis. 'Never underestimate a Zabini.' Every pureblood child was told this, along with: 'Try to make friends with the Zabinis.' Or, his personal favorite: 'Try to get pregnant with his kid to get his money.' Blaise snorted to himself again. He would never be unfaithful to his lover, and anyone who suggested otherwise, found themselves with a few less limbs and internal organs.

Crossing his arms behind his back, Blaise leaned forward, balancing himself on the balls of his feet now. "I guess...that I shall join as well." Silence ran through the dining hall, while cogs were slowly turning in everyone's heads. Blaise looked on in amusement, which turned to irritation when they didn't just shout something, but kept staring at him in complete amazement.

It was with Lucius that the meaning of what Blaise just said clicked. A smirk quickly spread across his face, and with a few long strides he was in front of Blaise. "We would be glad to have you." Blaise stared at him with a blank face. "As if I don't know that. My money and property will not be available to any single one of you." Lucius winced, knowing that Voldemort would _Crucio_ Blaise for that, until he did gave them up. "I will be back by 9.30 tomorrow. Expect me." After that, he turned his back to Lucius and the Death Eaters again, turning his attention to Draco.

No emotion was visible on his face, but he knew that Draco was relieved. Draco hadn't been sure if his plan would work if he had been alone. He could be a coward, he knew that. Especially when crowds were there, expecting something of him which he wouldn't be able to give.

Blaise nodded at Draco, and, keeping up pretense, hissed softly to him: "You better get ready for tomorrow. It will be an honor to do what we are about to do." Lucius and the Death Eaters nodded in approval of Blaise's words, not knowing that Blaise was speaking of two totally different things. Draco nodded, and replied dutifully: "I shall, thank you, Heir Zabini." Blaise didn't even give him a nod, before whisking past him, striding out of the dining hall with long, calm steps, a smug smirk present on his face. When the dining hall door slammed behind him, Blaise apparated out of the manor.

He needed to have a word with his family Council.

* * *

><p>A gavel was smacked on the desk by an old, irritated man. "Order, order!" He yelled, and all the assembled Zabinis quickly shut up, not wanting to be the recipients to the old man's terrifying anger. As soon as it was completely silent, the man turned his attention to the youngest member of the Zabinis, Blaise Zabini.<p>

"You, Heir Blaise Thanatos Zabini," Several Zabinis shuddered at the fitting middle name, "have been called in front of the Council of the Elders to give an explanation as to your very unusual actions earlier this day."

Blaise said nothing, he just stood there with an easy smirk. He had expected this to happen, of course, and was fully prepared to make all these people feel like complete idiots. "Of course, I hadn't expected otherwise." Blaise answered slowly, as if trying to get a child to understand that he knew the procedure.

The old man narrowed his eyes at him, before continuing. "Earlier this day, you were spotted in Malfoy Manor. You have been heard while you were pledging to take the Dark Mark of one Lord Voldemort, less commonly known as Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You pledged your allegiance to him, while we Zabinis pride ourselves on being of a family who never bows down to others. Explain your actions to this Council, and accept your punishment!"

Blaise's smirk disappeared, and a frown settled in. Glaring, Blaise stared straight at the Council elder talking to him. "You can't do that, as you do not have the Heir or one of his family members behind you."

The old man looked smug, as if just having found a fault in the young Heir. "But we do. Your mother was kind enough to agree to whatever we felt would be a fitting punishment." Blaise's grin came back.

"My mother was kind enough to be the one to sell me off to the Death Eaters in the first place."

Deadly silence descended on the Council, while Blaise kept on grinning like a lunatic. "She told me that I would make our family proud, by joining one Lord Voldemort. So I went to Malfoy Manor, and told the assembled Death Eaters that I would take the Mark tomorrow, at 10.00, together with Draco Malfoy."

A roar of anger started up, only to be quickly silenced by a flare of Blaise's magic. "Continue." Said the old man softly, suddenly feeling as if there was more than what Blaise let on.

Blaise stared at him, before saying slowly, dragging out words, making it sound as if it was all as logical as the sun shining: "I will not agree to take the Mark. I will get out of there with Draco Malfoy. We will not take the Mark. We will set an example. You _do_understand THAT, right?"

The old man hissed in annoyance, but a blush was on his face. Well, he felt kind of dumb now.

Sputtering softly, he tried to find the right words to say, hoping not to sound stupid again. Seeing the Heir staring at him in amusement, an eyebrow raised, he blushed, turning his cheeks a reddish-gray color. "What would you like for the Council to do?" The elder man asked, finally admitting defeat.

Blaise smirked widely, having won this round. "You shall arrest my mother for treason to the Zabini clan, and you shall question her with veritaserum. Ask about all her misdeeds, no matter how old or new."

"So mote it be." The elder man said gravely, and he smacked his gavel on the table to close the gathering.

Blaise smirked as he saw the gathered members standing, and apparating out. Three of the clans assassins and searchers walked towards Blaise, bags slung over their shoulders. Blaise glanced them over for a few seconds, while they walked towards him cautiously, while trying not to look too predatory to their Heir, their soon to be Head of House. Blaise looked proud as he didn't hear any of their footsteps, even though they weren't even trying to be silent.

As soon as the two man and one woman stood in front of him, Blaise crossed his arms slowly. "I want you to find my mother as swift as possible. By now, news of her arrest warrant will have reached her ears by the spies she undoubtedly had in this Council. She will probably not be in our home anymore, but if she is, I shall personally hand her in. Other than that, she has a property in Greece where she would have fled to, and another property in Spain. But what I want for you to do, Elaine," Blaise glanced at the one woman there, who was looking the most innocent, "is to go to Riddle Manor, and feel if her magic is there. If it is, we might have a huge problem, as my whole plan would cave in. As a precaution, I had placed a spell on her. She will not be able to talk about it, but she will try. And it might take Lord Voldemort only a few hours to break the spell. I want her back here before the spell is broken!"

The one assassin, the woman named Elaine, and the two searchers nodded, before they silently apparated away. Blaise got his grin back on his face, before he took his portkey, back to his manor.

* * *

><p>Standing in front of the mirror, Blaise sneered at the formless black robes he was supposed to wear to his initiation to the Death Eaters.<p>

Elaine was standing behind him, frowning even deeper at the robe. "You shall not be wearing that, Heir Blaise Thanatos Zabini!" Blaise smirked in amusement as the woman used his full name, which was a custom to do by the other members of the clan when they were addressing their Heir or their Head of House.

Elaine turned to his wardrobe, and started rummaging through it, throwing perfectly fine clothes on his bed. She almost seemed to disappear in the wardrobe, before a cry of triumph was heard from deep within the wardrobe. She easily popped out of the wardrobe again, and spelled the other clothes back in the wardrobe with an easy wave of her wand.

Blaise looked down curiously, wanted to see for himself what Elaine had chosen for him to wear that day. A smirk soon danced around his lips, and he held out his hand for the silky like robes. Fingering the robe carefully, he smiled a bit. This was one of his most expensive robes, but it was also one of his most secure robes.

It was a robe spun with Acrumantula silk, one of the rarest materials in the world. This was, because it could only be spun into an useful robe if it was fresh out of the spider. Trying to use Acrumantula silk from its webs would be useless, as they had lost their magical ability ages ago. There were but a few rare robe makers in the world that could successfully extract Acrumantula silk and then weave a robe with it that would contain its magical abilities.

Blaise knew for a fact that he three robes spun of Acrumantula silk, and he also knew why Elaine would have chosen this robe in particular. It was very resilient, and could deflect almost every spell which would be thrown at him. Only the blackest of spells could not be stopped by this robe.

It was also near impossible to tear the robe. This was only logical, as the silk would normally be used to defend the Acrumantula babies. They were very wanted prey to most magical predators, so they had to be protected to the maximum. You see, after a web was spun from Acrumantula silk by the mother, it might lose its magical ability, but the cocoon in which the baby would be residing would be near impossible to penetrate, even with a magically enchanted object.

Blaise let his hand slide once more over the soft and thin material of the robe, before carefully slipping it on. As soon as he had pulled it on, it began to reform, so as to sit snugly around his chest and legs, forming some sort of body armor. This is why Blaise normally wore two Acrumantula silk robes at the same time when leaving for a possibly dangerous situation. One of which would form his pants and shirt, and the other which would be the actual outer robe. Not only was it a lot safer than normal clothes, it also looked damn good on him, if one was to believe Draco.

Nodding at Elaine, he watched as she seemingly disappeared into the shadows. Grinning, Blaise walked downstairs through the empty halls of Zabini Manor.

His mother had been caught in the Zabini Manor itself yesterday. Together with her spy from the Council meeting. Both had been caught and brought in front of the Council red-handed. The spy had been sentenced to death after they found out that he spied on them for other families as well. His mother had been put in a corner in Azkaban, where no guard would ever find her, only Dementors to snack on her soul.

Stepping towards the fireplace which was struggling to keep the room warm by itself, he threw a pinch of floopowder in the heart of the fireplace. Green fire sputtered to life, and danced around in the fireplace. Stepping inside the green fire, Blaise disappeared with a grin and a whisper of "Riddle Manor."

* * *

><p>Stepping out of the fireplace in Riddle Manor, Blaise was greeted by a single, faceless Death Eater. With not a single word of greeting towards the young Heir, the Death Eater turned around, mentioning for him to follow. Blaise sneered at his back as the Death Eater did not even greet him. It was proper pureblood law to greet one higher than you. And Blaise knew for a fact that his family was higher than some nobody Death Eater.<p>

"You might want to greet the Heir of the Zabini family with proper manners." Blaise hissed softly, and the Death Eater stiffened. So he did know his mistake. A soft chuckle startled him though, having not expected it. "You won't be the Heir much longer, Blaise Zabini. Lord Voldemort will be the new Heir of the Zabini clan."

Hate started boiling in his blood, and Blaise's eyes turned a darker shade of gold in hate. There was no way he would ever let that happen, not even if he did choose to be branded by a sophisticated maniac.

Taking a step towards the stupid Death Eater, Blaise growled: "I will let you know that our Council will still be behind me when I say that, as of now, I am STILL the Heir of the Zabini clan. So bow, you simplistic minion!" Force and magic was hear-able behind Blaise's angry tone of voice, and the Death Eater whitened slightly behind his mask as he felt the hateful magic of Blaise fill the room. Scrambling to get down, he didn't only bow before the Heir of the Zabini clan, but he also knelt. And prettily begged for his forgiveness.

Blaise sneered down with pure hatred in his eyes, before walking past the whimpering Death Eater. Walking through the doors, he found himself in one of the heavily decorated halls of Riddle Manor. Quickly recognizing the lay-out as the standard Manor lay-out, he frowned, though slight amusement was visible in his eyes.

The richer families who owned one or more manors, made their interior in their own style. But the fact that this manor, the manor of Lord Voldemort, was so pale and _boring_in comparison to the other, self-constructed manors, was just sad. So the supposedly most powerful beings of the world couldn't even construct his own manor, didn't even have enough money that he could afford a self-constructed manor.

Dark amusement visible in his eyes, Blaise started walking down the halls, walking resolutely towards the ball room. It would be the only room big enough to hold a Death Eater meeting. Or, in this case, a Death Eater initiation. Walking down two flights of stairs, he was unsurprised when the Death Eater from before scrambled to get to him. Blaise didn't make the effort to slow down, and kept walking briskly towards the set of doors right in front of him, which led to the ball room.

Standing still in front of the door, Blaise then, finally, waited for the panting Death Eater to catch up to him. The Death Eater glared at him, though the glare was empty without emotions, before knocking softly on the doors.

"Please, come inside." A hissing voice penetrated the door to reach their ears, and the Death Eater shuddered. Was that fright he saw there?

Not about to wait for the Death Eater to finally get to his senses, and open the door, Blaise pushed them open himself. Without so much as a squeak, the doors slid open inwards, revealing a big, but once again standard, ball room.

Glancing around the room, Blaise rolled his eyes at the standard bad-guy scene Lord Voldemort had set. The drapes had all been drawn, not letting a little ray of sunshine enter the dark room. Several green candles were lit in the big room, and green light was cast all across the room by them. Shadows were dancing across the room to the beat of the moving flames, but Lord Voldemort was cast in the shadows for all the time.

Yep, Blaise snorted to himself, the basic bad-guy scene.

Walking further in the room, he saw that Draco and his father were standing in the room already, with his left sleeve drawn up. With a relieved smile, Blaise saw the unblemished arm. But he wiped that smile off of his face quickly, so that Lord Voldemort wouldn't see it, and have him killed on the spot.

"Why have you chosen not to wear the robe I picked for you, Heir of the Zabini clan?" Blaise glanced towards Lord Voldemort, as if finding him unworthy of his attention. "It was ugly and formless, with no means of being able to defend myself." His lack of 'My Lord' had the Death Eaters gasping in surprise and slight fear, while Lord Voldemort himself narrowed his eyes dangerously. But he didn't comment on it just yet.

"If you would step forward and kneel beside the young Draco."

Blaise stared at him, unimpressed. "If you will not address me by my proper title, I will not do anything at all, Thomas Marvolo Riddle."

"_Crucio!_" Lord Voldemort hissed immediately, anger lacing his voice.

Blaise snorted at the known dark curse, and easily side-stepped it, not even bothering to seem a bit scared. "Well? I'm waiting." Lord Voldemort snarled at him, before softly hissing, a predatory look in his eyes: "Very well. Step forward, Heir Zabini, and get ready to take the Mark." Blaise snorted softly again, while Draco had to keep himself from giggling madly at the actions of his lover.

Stepping forward, Blaise slowly glided across the small space in between him and Draco. As soon as he stood besides Draco, he knelt as well, knees barely touching the floor. "He calls, you apparate." Blaise hissed softly at Draco, too soft for anyone but Draco himself to hear. Draco nodded slightly, and Blaise almost had to narrow his eyes to be able to see the near invisible nod.

After it was confirmed that Draco would obey him on this one, the boy had a tendency to see how far he could push Blaise before he would get really worked-up, he turned to look at a still irritated Lord Voldemort.

"Let the ceremony begin." The candles in the room changed from a green color to a black one, the light emitting from them now barely lighting any bit of the room. "Raise your left arm, young Draco, and tell me your vow, pledging your allegiance to me, and only me."

Draco raised his left arm, before raising his head as well.

"I will vow that one day, you will get a stiff broom shoved right up your arse by one Harold James Potter-Black. May he succeed and defeat you in the most humiliating way possible. Amen, and fuck off." With that quieting speech, Draco flipped Voldemort the birdy, and while the Dark Lord was still completely stunned by what Draco had just said, he apparated out.

With a soft, barely hearable 'poof', Draco disappeared from Death Eater meeting and from the manor itself.

It took Lord Voldemort a few more seconds after that to come back to his senses, and when he was able to focus his eyes once again, it was to see Blaise standing in front of him, a dangerous smile playing amongst his lips. Before Lord Voldemort could raise his hand, or open his mouth for that matter, Blaise started speaking in a cool, controlled voice.

"You tried to recruit one of the Zabini clan. You would have tried to take my title, one I wear with pride, and you would have tried to take the Zabini fortune, which we have taken several millennium to built. You tried to take away that what we hold dear, our own strong side in any war. We join those we want to join, we join those who deserve our clan at their side. We do not join those who steal from us, who curses us, who will change the world for the worse. We are smart. We choose the smart path to take. We choose the path with the highest survival rate. You have not earned our support, and you will never earn our support. Let you die and burn forever in hell. Let your ashes be scattered across the land of muggle farms to make their ground fertile. Let's make you feed the ones you so despise. Your end is near, Lord Voldemort. And you won't be able to stop it."

It was fully silent in the ball room in Riddle manor. Not even Lord Voldemort was able to reply to what Blaise had just said, and implied. Blaise simply smirked, before he joined Draco in what he did before.

He flipped Lord Voldemort the birdy, before he silently apparated out of the manor, back to his own manor, where Draco would undoubtedly be waiting for him. Probably with his legs spread, begging for forgiveness for having talked like that to Lord Voldemort, while Blaise had told him to apparate immediately.

As it was, it was normally better for Draco's health to just listen to Blaise, but this opportunity had been too precious to pass up on. It would be well worth the...punishment Blaise would give him.

* * *

><p>Somewhere far away from their current location, someone was laughing softly, trying not to cackle in glee. In the smallest bedroom in number 4 Privet Drive sat a petite teenage boy, who was trying to smother his laughter. That what he had just seen in his dreams, through Lord Voldemort's eyes, was just too hilarious!<p>

With a slight grin, Harry lay down on his bed again. Oh, that memory would be so worth the nightmares he would get now. Nightmares which always came when Lord Voldemort was throwing another classic hissy fit. Wondering how many _Crucio_'s Lord Voldemort would throw around today, Harry fell asleep quickly. The most silly grin he had ever had still adorning his face.

* * *

><p><em>R&amp;R<em>


	4. Unwanted Skeletons

**A/N: **I got my first review a few days ago. This is the exact wording: Lol, why is everyone randomly gay? Twilight is in the other section. I have written a PM back, questioning it, and have, as of yet, not received an answer yet. How is everyone gay? Luna didn't suddenly turn into a guy, right? How does this story have anything to do with Twilight?  
>I fail to understand this review, but it has kept me from starting this chapter. But I did, because, surely, there must be people out there appreciating what I write?<br>I get that some people like to flame, but to get it as my first review ever? That hurt.  
>But well, here is the next chapter, hope you people like it!<p>

**Title: **_Shattered World._

**Summary:**_After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?_

_The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal_**?**

**Pairings: **_Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction._

**Warning: **_Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), Slash_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Unwanted Skeletons<br>**

It was dead silent in the dark corridors of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Way too quiet. Not even the soft padding of the tiny feet of Mrs. Norris was heard this night. No owl in the owlery made a sound, and not one student seemed to be out of bed.

No, that wasn't true. None of it could be true. As, yes, there it was. A soft sound, almost unheard, was heard in one of the corridors. The soft padding of feet, muffled by a wide spread _Silencio._ That might explain why you couldn't hear a thing. While one was in the field of the _Silencio_, one couldn't hear a peep, and not a peep could be heard from inside the _Silencio _field either.

The soft padding of feet was walking towards nothing, constantly changing paths, constantly turning around or pacing up and down a corner. If one felt closely, one could feel the magic, which was contained inside the boy spike every once in a while. Not dangerously, but it still spiked, as if trying to warn anyone near them to back off. Of course, no one else was near this corridor, but the magic seemed to act on distress.

For the one who stalked the corridors seemed to be in distress, if the soft whimpers were anything to go by. Suddenly, a soft gasp, and a whimpered "No…uncle, no…please no, this can't be…." was heard, just before a body was heard sagging against a wall. "No…leave me alone, please! I promise…I promise I won't do it again, please!"

If one had been able to see the one who said that, than they would see a curled up boy, trying to shield himself from something, or rather, someone, who wasn't there. The body of the boy was shaking like a leaf, and his legs had given out under him, making him unable to stand.

This boy one might feel sympathy for, was none other than Harry James Potter-Black.

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><p>Harry sighed softly. He had been walking down the halls of Hogwarts for a few hours now, not understanding his sudden urge to get out of bed, and <em>get away as fast as possible<em> from the Gryffindor dorms. But, Harry knowing that his instincts had saved his life or dignity more than once, believed his instincts.

He had quickly stridden over to the portrait which hid the Gryffindor common room from outsiders, and he hadn't found any chance to put on proper clothes. As of such, he was still dressed in his pajamas.

Sneaking out of his dorm had proven to be easier than he had expected. Knowing that Neville was a light sleeper, he had been very surprised that he hadn't woken Neville accidentally. That is, before he remembered the strain Harry regularly put on them. Or rather, the strain his magic put on them.

Yesterday had been another one of those days. His magic had seemingly forgotten the promise of Blaise Zabini, and had forgotten that the Italian had told it to stay low and not to do anything. It had done something, though.

Harry had been able to keep it all in, until Harry and Neville were alone in a classroom. As soon as Neville had made his magic fill the entire room, he had nodded to Harry. When Harry had let his grip -or what was left of it- on his magic vanish, he had lost control immediately.

Neville almost had had to beat his magic in submission, as it just refused to back down, even a bit. The battle between the wills of two magics had tired Neville out. But his magic had won, beating down Harry's magic relentlessly, and Harry had locked his magic down again. Of course, by doing that, it became a bit harder for him to perform spells, but it had showed to be way safer to the ones around them.

Focusing his attention on his surroundings again, he frowned deeply. He didn't recognize this place. How had he come upon a cupboard, and why had he climbed inside of it?

Harry shuddered, before talking one step closer to the door. It was then that a half broken toy caught his attention. Oh no. He recognized that toy. It had been his only friend while he had been in the cupboard, for when he was once again thrown in that horrid cupboard after another lovely lesson with uncle Vernon.

Harry quickly walked towards the door of the cupboard, eyes darting around fearfully, as if his uncle would grab him and torture him, again and again.

Just like home.

Harry barely had any time to shudder before a few harsh and fast knocks were heard on the cupboard door. A voice, a voice which he had hoped to never hear again, filled his senses.

"Get up, Freak!"

Harry started shaking again, trying to back away in a corner deep inside the cupboard, which had suddenly gotten smaller. No longer was the cupboard the size of a Hogwarts cupboard. No, this time he was back in his old cupboard, with his uncle trying to wake him up.

"I said, wake up, Freak!" Harry, frozen as he was, didn't have the time to answer him, before the cupboard door slammed open. Afraid to look up in the face of the man was the unfortunate relative of Harry Potter.

"Did you not hear me, you stupid girly boy?"

Harry winced. His uncle had always called him a girl, or told him he was girly, because he preferred his hair longer than he did. Harry also had a smaller frame than most the teenage boys his age had, so he did have a slightly feminine figure. But that still wasn't a reason for his uncle to call him a girl.

One time, just once, Harry had asked him, nicely and even with a please, although that part had been kind of forced, to stop with accusing him of being a girl. That was just before the first beating he ever got. Harry would never forget the pain his uncle had inflicted on his innocent 5-year-old body, while he had just been curious about a few things he didn't yet understand.

He had learned a valuable lesson that day. Do not, under any circumstances, correct uncle Vernon in anything. He was always right, just like his wonderful wife, and his beautiful son. They were always right, and he was always punished for questioning. They told him that the torture he was put through was just what he deserved. He deserved what he got for being such a sissy boy.

Suddenly, Harry was viciously ripped into the present, when the door to the cupboard slammed closed again. In front of the closed door stood no one other than Vernon Dursley, Harry's biggest tormentor.

"No…" He whispered piteously, hoping that this was not true. That uncle Vernon wasn't walking into his cupboard now, looking as if Christmas had come early.

"No…uncle, no…please no, this can't be…." Harry whimpered, trying to curl away from the advancing body-mass of uncle Vernon. In uncle Vernon's hands was a whip, a strong, leather whip.

Harry shook, terrified, as his eyes fastened on the whip. He knew that whip all too well. He was very familiar which the whip which had struck his back more often than it had missed. That whip had permanently scarred his back, forever, many times.

Crawling away from uncle Vernon proved impossible, as his body was frozen to the spot. 'No…no…not all this over again!' Harry thought, panicked when his uncle kept advancing towards him.

"No…leave me alone, please! I promise…I promise I won't do it again, please!" Harry cried out, but it was in vain, judging from the smirk that twisted his features.

"I'll make sure you'll never go back to that school again, Freak!"

Harry's eyes snapped wide open. Hogwarts. He was at Hogwarts. It wasn't summer, he knew that. But then…this was all an illusion? As soon as he thought that, the image of uncle Vernon stood still, in mid-step and his whip still in the air where it had been swinging towards him. It was a illusion! All fake!

Harry slowly stood, and took a step forward. Slowly, he started walking towards his uncle, and as soon as he touched his uncle, he disintegrated. All of him disappeared into nothing, and before Harry's very eyes, the cupboard he was so familiar with morphed back into a dark corridor in Hogwarts.

Staring at the less familiar but more wanted surroundings, Harry sagged to the floor in relief. He had just escaped his nightmare, that illusion.

Why now? Why was it all coming back now? It shouldn't be, he had locked it all away! All of his memories had been locked far away in his mind.

Slowly taking a few steps, Harry looked around him cautiously. Something must have set him off. Glancing around him, he winced. Of course, he was in a dark corner in Hogwarts. Right in front of a door of a small cupboard. Taking a few quick steps, Harry put quite some distance between himself and the cupboard, trying to get away from the thing that had most likely given him that nightmare.

Glancing once more at the cupboard, which seemed to be looming towards him, as if inviting him back there, he started walking down the hallway. Glancing around himself, the only thing he saw were sleeping portraits and walls aligned with classroom doors.

All of sudden, some of the doors were starting to distort in front of his eyes, and Harry panicked. He quickened his pace, and tried to run through the long hallway. A hallway, which seemed to be never ending.

Eyes darting around, they quickly filled with fear as he saw how his surroundings morphed into that of the corridors of his old primary school. "There he is! Get him!" Glancing behind him, Harry panicked. His cousin and his gang were pointing at him and laughing, before they started running after him as soon as he started running.

Not looking where he was going, he darted through a set of doors, and found himself in a different looking place. The sides, where there should have been walls, were dark and had no form. There were a few odd looking doors adorning the seemingly endless walls, and they were all leaning towards him in a most threatening way, trying to close in around him. Behind him, he could still hear the jeers of his cousin and his gang.

Another glance showed him that there was most definitely no way out of this…street? Looking down, Harry recognized the asphalt he was walking on as a street. Lights seemed to turn on all around him, and with another glance, he saw what looked like windowless houses, all with a single light on next to the doors.

Doors which all swung open for him, inviting him to come into their depths.

Whenever Harry glanced inside one of those doors, he would see a nightmare. His uncle who was waiting for him with a hammer in his hand, one where he saw the basement of his relatives' home. He had such bad memories of that basement, that he began shaking by even the look of it. But when he looked inside one of the only non-threatening doors, he saw a bedroom.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, he couldn't quite remember what this bedroom was. Was it part of the Dursley's house? It must be, right? His mind then decided to do the stupidest thing it had ever done. It gave his feet the signals needed to walk forwards. And as soon as he soon in the room, the door snapped shut behind him.

"How nice of you to join us, Freak."

Harry whitened. He remembered. He remembered it now. This room…one of the rooms he was forbidden from ever entering. It was his cousins' room. But it was cleaner, without all the garbage. That is why he couldn't recognize it. It looked like his cousins room, but then…. it didn't.

It was different, but not impossibly different. In fact, hadn't there been a day where he had been forced to clean Dudley's room? Wasn't that the day where….

Harry's eyes snapped up, fear rolling off of him in waves. It was _this_ memory. The one he had blocked, the one that he didn't want to remember. No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Please no.

With a scream of fright, Harry backed up into the door as his cousin and his little gang descended on him. Trying to dart around the boys, he started playing an already lost game of cat and mouse. It was really hopeless, because Harry knew he had done this too when this memory had been made. He had tried to evade his cousin and his little gang for a few minutes.

"No…no….don't do this Dudley, please!" Harry cried, forgetting that this was an illusion. His mind was back to the day this had happened. The day he had been forced to…to…to pleasure this pig. Shaking, tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"Oh, but you'll be very good at it, won't you, Freak? After all, it is all Freaks are good for." Harry was shivering in fright as he was cornered. "No, please no, please don't do this, no no no…" He was pressing himself close to the wall, as if trying to disappear through it.

Then, he heard it. The most beautiful sound. Footsteps. They were running, and towards him. Before he could scream that he needed help, his cousin stepped inside his field of vision. Harry whitened again. "No…" He pleaded quietly, but the grin on his cousins' face held him pinned to place. "Not again, no!" Harry screamed and begged for his cousin to let go, not noticing when the door to the room slammed open.

"No, Dudley, please, no! Don't do this, please!" Harry was pressing himself closer to the wall, as he tried to stay away from the hands and the grinning faces of Dudley and his gang. They were grabbing his arms, his neck, pulling on his legs. They were pulling him away from the wall, trying to pull him towards a bed.

Harry screamed and struggled, legs kicking out, but not hitting anyone. Then the pulling towards the bed stopped, and he was put on the floor. Immediately, he was trying to crawl away from his cousin again, but hands on his shoulders wouldn't let him.

Vaguely, he heard someone yell "Snap out of it, Potter!". But it was so far away, that he barely took notice of it. Indeed, the only thing he noticed, were the bodies of Dudley and his gang who were steadily advancing towards him, crowding all around him.

He heard a whisper of one of the gang members he didn't recognize behind him, before a yell sounded in his ear. It was a very familiar one, and the spell that was pronounced made his heart leap into his throat. Which wizard had snuck inside his cousins' room? Before he could think on that some more, he heard the spell being said again.

"_Expecto patronum!_"

A blinding light filled his vision, followed by a scream. Harry could only watch in astonishment as a bright light seemed to slam into his cousins' side, which made the boy disintegrate. Just like his uncle had not long ago.

His eyes opened wide. This wasn't real either! This was another illusion. The room around him flickered slightly, but stayed strong. It is an illusion.

"It is fake, an illusion. It is not real, I'm not there. Not back again, this is not happening, they are not real." Harry started whispering this, his voice becoming louder and steadier the more emotions he pushed in it. "You are fake! You are not them, you're an illusion!" Harry said, voice angry, but still slightly shaky, while looking at the gang members.

With those words, the whole gang disintegrated, while the room morphed back slowly, back into the look of an old, abandoned classroom. It was very silent in the room, except for Harry's panting. He was staring unseeingly into the darkness of the room, before he made a choked sound. Leaning forward, he started dry-heaving.

It had almost happened again. He had almost been forced to do _that_ again. Real vomit came out the next time he heaved, and a bucket appeared before him, in which he could vomit. He barely felt the hand rubbing across his back and his neck, while whispered words where trying to sooth him. In fact, Harry barely noticed anything at all besides the vomiting.

He had just escaped a replay of that night. He didn't have to do that again, didn't have to perform felatio again. His cousin wasn't here to bully him into it. In fact, he wasn't here at all! The next time he heaved, no more vomit came out. He had emptied all the contents from his stomach, which wasn't a lot, into the bucket.

Slowly, he became aware again, especially aware to the hand that was soothingly rubbing his back and neck, while still whispering soft and soothing words to him.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, being careful not to jolt his body too much lest he vomit again, he stared right into the worried eyes of Draco Malfoy. The two stared silently at each other for a while, while Draco never stopped running his calming hands over his back.

Turning his whole body slightly, Harry made sure that he was facing Draco entirely. Leaning forward, he hugged Draco close. Draco had a few moments to look surprised, before he hugged the petite boy back.

Harry started to cling to him as if he was a lifeline, and tears started streaming down his face. Soon, he was sobbing his heart out, crying like he had never cried before. And Draco just kept soothing him, not rejecting him for even a second.

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><p>Draco had been patrolling the halls when he had heard footsteps down the hall. Being the good Head Boy he was, he started to walk briskly towards the footsteps. They were running, probably running away from him.<p>

When the footsteps abruptly stopped, however, he raised an eyebrow. That was unusual. Normally, they didn't stop until they were back in their respective common rooms. A loud slam was heard, as if a door was being slammed shut. That was even more unusual. Why would a student who was out at night, while he or she wasn't supposed to be, slamming doors, and leaving a trail right towards him- or herself? That was strange.

Draco quickened his steps, until he entered the long hallway in which he had heard the footsteps, followed by the slamming door. Glancing around, he didn't notice anything strange. Frowning, Draco realized he would have to check every room individually. What a bother.

Opening the door to the first room, he quickly glanced around. This was clearly an abandoned classroom.

Looking at the floor, he noticed that every inch was covered in a thick layer of dust. If it had been disturbed by footsteps, he would've seen it. Nodding, satisfied that he now knew how to quickly check each abandoned classroom, he excited this old one again, closing the door resolutely again.

Opening the next door, he checked the dust layer again for irregularities, once again finding none. This repeated for two other doors, before he heard a scream of fright fill the air.

Draco's heart almost stopped when the pained scream filled the air, and he began to run towards where the sound came from. Whimpers of fright helped him with finding the door that he needed, and when he stood in front of the door, he heard a frightened yelp. "Not again, no!" That cut it for him. Someone was in pain in there.

Slamming the door open, Draco blinked at the dark room, which was seemingly empty. If it wasn't for the whimpers coming from a corner of the room. Quietly shutting the door behind him again, Draco walked briskly towards the frightened body in the corner. A quick glance showed a surprised Draco that this boy, this scared boy, was none other than Harry Potter. The next cry of help had Draco moving, fast.

"No, Dudley, please, no! Don't do this, please!"

Draco was quickly beside the boy, and hesitantly tried to lay his hand on Harry's arm. But Harry tried to move out of the way. Slightly hurt, Draco pulled his hand back, only to notice that Harry wasn't looking at him. He was looking in the darkness of the room, as if there was someone else there. As if…he was reliving a memory.

Cursing, Draco sat behind Harry quickly again, and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders, getting a whimper of fright for his effort. Ignoring all protests, more like cries of fright, Draco picked Harry up, and started to carry him towards the teachers' desk, intending to lay Harry down on it, to make him more comfortable. But Harry saw the desk, and started struggling, trying to get out of his grip.

Looking towards the desk, Draco's eyes uncomprehending, he stopped walking. Slowly, he sat down on the dusty ground, setting Harry in between his legs, with his arms wrapped around his middle.

"Snap out of it, Potter" Draco whispered softly, but it didn't get through. Hissing, he tried to say it louder, before yelling it. That got a start out of Harry, but it was gone almost immediately after that, pulled back into the memory that he was reliving.

Thinking quickly, Draco went mentally over all the spells he knew. Which would be able to…of course! "_Expecto Patronum!_" Draco yelled, focusing on a happy memory. Only to look on in surprise as the Patronus fizzled and disintegrated before it had the time to form properly.

Frowning, Draco raised his wand again. This time, he ordered. He ordered, mentally, for the spell to drive away the bad memories which were haunting Harry Potter. "_Expecto Patronum!_" His voice sounded stronger, more demanding, and his Patronus leaped out of his wand. But it wasn't his usual Patronus. Draco stared as Harry's Patronus leaped from his wand.

The stag looked silently at him for a moment, before nodding. He then stepped towards Harry, and seemed to disappear. But Draco could still feel the pull on his magic from the Patronus. So, where had it disappeared to? Shaking his head, Draco looked down. Harry was staring at something. His eyes filled with wonder and hope.

Eyes wide, Draco suddenly grinned. So the Patronus had entered Harry's memory, to fend it off. Magic was a lot smarter then most people believed it was, it seemed.

It didn't take Harry very long after that to come back to reality. He looked around him, and seemed to be relieved that he was no longer where he had been, wherever that was.

Not a second later, Harry was dry heaving, silent and tearless sobs wrecking his small frame. Draco whispered a soft spell, and a bucket appeared on the ground in front of him. This was just on time, as Harry started vomiting. Draco laid a hand on Harry's neck, and started to rub it slowly and soothingly, making sure to rub over Harry's tense back as well.

As soon as it seemed as if Harry was done vomiting all of his stomach contents into the bucket, he straightened slowly. Staring silently at Harry, Draco wondered if the boy would do something. And yes, he would, he was proven not a moment later. Harry's head turned slightly, so as to look at him.

The two former rivals, they had come to an agreement after the war had ended, stared at each other. That was until Harry broke down. He grabbed Draco quickly, and before Draco knew what was going on, Harry was hugging him for all he was worth.

Draco blinked quickly, surprised, before he wrapped his own arms around Harry. That seemed to do it for Harry, who broke down into quiet sobs first. Not a moment later, he was crying his heart out on Draco's shoulder, who could do nothing else, other than to sooth him.

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><p>Blaise Zabini was on his own, private, rounds around Hogwarts on his own, private, job, known as "finding Draco and having my wicked way with that disobedient little bastard", when he heard the sobs.<p>

Frowning slightly, Blaise turned around, and walked slowly towards where the sobs came from, an old, cracked door. The door looked as if it had be slammed open and shut one too many times. Nonetheless, Blaise walked closer towards the door, and the closer he came towards it, the more he heard the anguished sobs. When he was ready to open the door, he heard soothing words fill the air too.

So there was already someone in there, soothing the crying person. Thinking quickly, Blaise finally opened the door, realizing that it could very well be Draco in there. God knows that he couldn't stand people being hurt.

As soon as he opened the door though, the crying stopped, as did the soothing. It became dead silent in the abandoned classroom. Almost unnaturally silent. Blaise would've believed it to be a spell, if it wasn't for the ragged breathing he could hear coming from one of the persons. Probably the one who had been crying.

"Close the door behind you, Blaise." He heard the soft voice of Draco say, softly, and Blaise promptly did as he was told, for once. He started walking towards the shadow covered duo on the floor, and he quickly recognized both Draco's and Harry Potter's magic. What had happened in here to make Harry cry?

Draco gave Blaise a single look, before he rubbed soothingly over Harry's back. "Blaise won't hurt you, Harry." Draco soothed the whimpering boy. Only to be surprised slightly when Harry immediately nodded, before burying his head back into Draco's shoulder.

"What happened?" Blaise asked, for once forgetting his tact. Draco threw a glare at him, slightly hugging Harry closer to him when the boy stiffened. Blaise shrugged apologetically, but he continued to look at Harry. Just when Draco was about to say just where Blaise could shove his untactful comment, Harry whispered slightly: "Memories."

Draco closed his mouth again, and looked at Harry. "What memories, Harry?" Blaise asked this gently, while kneeling next to Harry, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. Harry looked up at Blaise, not letting Draco go for even a bit. Harry stared straight at Blaise, and seemed close to staring through his eyes, into his soul.

"They were of my…relatives. Before I got in this room, it was of the cupboard. My uncle…my uncle was standing over me with his…with his leather whip." Blaise and Draco blanched. Whatever they had expected, this wasn't it.

Did this mean, that Harry had been abused? That his family had mistreated him, as if he was some sort of miscreant? How could they! But Harry wasn't done telling his short and sad tale yet.

"And then, when the cupboard was gone, I was in my primary school. My cousin and his gang were behind me, and I started running through the street." Draco blinked. So that were the footsteps he heard. Harry had been running from his memories. But street? Had his magic created an illusion? Had he really been so far gone in his memories? That could have ended very badly. He could have lost his mind!

Before Draco could ponder some more on what could have happened, Harry continued his story in a silent voice. "Every door opened, and everywhere, there were memories. They were luring me! Trying to drag me in!" Harry buried his face in Draco's shoulder again, silent sobs wrecking through his body once more.

Draco started rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Harry's back again, trying to keep away the bad memories of the memories chasing him.

"Then…then there was this door, and I didn't recognize the memory it showed. I…I walked in, and the door shut behind me. My…my…he…my cousin came into the room, and his gang too, and then…then I remembered. I…he….they had….they…" Sobs started from deep within his body, before he whispered: "They wanted me to…to perform fe…felat….felatio on them…again…"

Draco and Blaise stared, while the first one kept soothing Harry. Their eyes spit fire. Someone would pay. Someone would pay dearly for the misdeeds done to this boy. Someone would die for this. Oh yes, they are going to personally _kill_ someone for doing this to such a sweet boy.

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><p><em>R&amp;R<em>


	5. Lessons

**Title: **_Shattered World._

**Summary:**_After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?_

_The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal_**?**

**Pairings: **_Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction._

**Warning: **_Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), Slash_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Lessons<br>**

A few days had passed in relative silence. No one had noticed anything about Harry having gone missing for a single night, neither had they noticed about Blaise and Draco having not been in their beds either.

But that night had indeed happened. Draco and Blaise had found Harry crying in a corridor, had found out about his home life. They had talked to him for all night, not letting him go before he told them. And telling them he had. He had told them everything, from the beginning of when he was dropped on the porch in front of his relatives door, to the end of last summer. They knew all of it.

They knew all about the wards on his house, the supposed blood ward which was supposed to protect him. But it didn't. It had only succeeded in protecting him from Death Eaters, but never had it protected him from his own family, of their cruelness.

Blaise and Draco had their own suspicions about that particular ward. Harry had been told that it would be impossible for Lily Potter-Evans to have placed that ward around the home of his relatives. For as much as blood wards were powerful, they needed to be kept going by a member of the family. Which was one of the reason blood wards had gone out of style ages ago. If there wasn't a current family member alive, then the wards would fall soon after the maker of said wards had died. Only the blood from a family member could keep it standing.

But Harry hadn't remembered a time where he had donated blood to anyone for anything. Nor had he remembered anyone forcefully taking blood. Ruling out the possibility of mind blocks, the Goblins had removed them all last summer, Harry had quickly come to the same conclusion Draco and Blaise had. There were either no blood ward, or the blood ward was someone else's. And Harry had a suspicion as to whose blood ward it could be.

Dumbledore's.

'It always comes back to Dumbledore,' Harry thought. It made sense that it would have been Dumbledore who put up the blood ward. Dumbledore had always been the one who had practically forced him to continue to live in his relatives home, even after he had come into his inheritance. Dumbledore had known of Harry's dislike for his relatives, of his fear about going back. And yet, every year he had been send back to that horrid home, back to his personal hell.

Dumbledore had been forcing him back there, even when Harry had the right to stay at Hogwarts in the summer. Indeed, Hogwarts did offer a place to stay for the homeless wizards and witches, but also for those who swore that they were abused and mistreated at home. A full wing was made for children just like this, and those children were allowed to stay all summer, and every other holiday.

Knowledge of that had only succeeded in making Harry even more angry after Draco had informed him of this summer plan Hogwarts had in place for people whose home-life was just as difficult as Harry's. He had been the one to wonder why Harry hadn't been there, and then he had also been the one to hold Harry once more as Dumbledore's manipulations sunk in. Harry had cried and raged about that, nearly destroying the empty classroom in his rage.

Harry sighed, and looked around himself, snapping out of his short trip down memory lane. He was slowly walking through Hogwarts halls, trying to find the correct pair of stairs that would get him up to the seventh floor without changing and twisting an uncountable amount of times. Harry knew that there was one staircase like that, Remus had mentioned once that there was one of those staircases for every floor, but now it was up to him to look for it. Besides, he had enough time left before he was due for his lesson with Blaise and Draco anyway.

Staring up at the moving staircases above him, Harry absentmindedly stepped on a non-moving staircase, which would bring him to the second floor at least. Letting his hand travel across the walls while he walked up the staircase, Harry made a mental note of the odd grooves marking the wall, before immediately forgetting about that silly detail again.

When Harry reached the second floor, he looked around again, trying to follow the movements of every staircase, he narrowed his eyes slowly, carefully watching one of the staircases which stubbornly moved between four different sides of the third floor. Keeping track of the staircase, he let his eyes travel upwards, following the steps. Bingo, that was the staircase he needed.

With a smile, Harry stepped on a different staircase, which would bring him to the third floor. The staircase started hovering, staying on its place for a little while, before it started to hover towards the third floor.

As soon as the staircase connected with a slightly raised platform on the third floor, Harry jumped off, landing lightly on the platform. Turning around, he watched as the staircase zipped back to its former position, waiting in a place between the second and third floors.

Turning around, Harry started walking towards a different platform, his eyes looking for the staircase he needed once more. He watched as it passed him, not stopping for any passengers. That would make it a bit risky. The staircase didn't stop once, it kept moving around. Harry would have to make sure to watch his step when he jumped on, and off once he had climbed to the seventh floor.

Carefully, Harry crouched a little, waiting for the staircase to come towards him again. When it came closer and closer, he tensed his muscles, getting ready to jump on the fast turning staircase. Briefly, Harry wondered what in heaven's name possessed the Founders when they put this in a school, but then he shook his head again. Magical people weren't known to be very thoughtful whenever they decided to do something. This staircase was only proof of that.

With a blink, Harry realized that he should jump in the coming seconds, or else he'd just fall down like a brick. His muscles moved underneath the skin in his legs, before he pushed himself off the platform, landing exactly in the middle of the staircase, like he had meant to do.

Once he was on the staircase, he smiled in glee, glad that he had timed his jump so well. Straightening himself, Harry grasped one of the bars on his sides, before he began jogging up the staircase, miraculously not losing his footing or balance just once. In cases like this, some wizards and witches at least did show that they had some brains when they designed this. Because they had been smart enough to cast the necessary spells to ensure that he wouldn't lose balance. On the other side, they were still morons, as Harry could feel that no magic had been cast to prevent someone from falling off the edge.

When Harry reached the top of the staircase, he watched as different platforms moved passed him, before he was able to determine how many seconds would be in between each platform. Exactly seven and a half seconds.

To this, he timed his jump, letting some platforms pass again while he counted in his head, to make sure he didn't miss and fall to a quick death. Harry snorted in amusement. That would be the news of the year. The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Kill-Voldemort, dead because he fell off a staircase. It would be a field day for the Daily Prophet.

Harry shook his head, trying to get those silly and non-important thoughts out of his mind. Mentally starting to count again, he jumped when he reached seven, so that he was sure not to miss the platform. If he had counted to seven and a half before jumping, he would have probably missed the platform, and fallen down humorously. As it was, he landed on the platform, and found out quickly that stability charms had been placed around here too. It was a good thing that they had, otherwise he would've fallen down either way.

Shaking his head in amusement, silently laughing at the strangeness of a racing staircase, Harry started walking down the long corridor which laid in front of him. Some of the lone portraits around him, told Harry that he was indeed on the seventh floor. Though where on the seventh floor he was, he didn't know yet.

Turning a corner, Harry decided that this was definitely not the corner he had wanted to turn. Staring at the strange and long corridor full of moving pieces of armor, Harry took a step back. All the pieces of armor were fighting for reasons unknown. Wincing slightly when one of the axes got stuck in a piece of armor, Harry turned around again, leaving the corridor as swift as possible to go look for a more agreeable corridor.

Walking down the long corridor again, he peeked around the next corner he came across, only to raise an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't had expected to find where he needed to go so easily, especially when he hadn't had any idea at which part of the seventh floor he had been in the first place.

But apparently, he had been on the part where he needed to be, as in front of him was the corridor in which the Room of Requirement was placed. Walking forward cautiously, Harry glanced around himself, making sure that no suits of armor were going to jump out and randomly attack not only one another, but also him, because he would be caught in the crossfire.

When no suits of armor, or their weapons, jumped out of the shadows, Harry relaxed a bit, chuckling softly at his own paranoia. True, it had saved his life more than once, but it was still a bit of overkill sometimes.

Shaking the lasts bit of paranoia and suits of armor from his mind, Harry started walking towards the invisible room. Looking around, trying to find a clue as to how to get into this room while there was already someone inside, his eye fell on a small piece of parchment lodged tightly between two stones in a wall. Only a corner of the yellow parchment paper stuck out, but Harry knew that this message was for him.

Taking the corner in between his fingertips, he yanked on it, and the parchment slipped from the stones easily enough. Unfolding the tiny bit of parchment, Harry quickly read the missive, before he folded it back up.

Sticking the piece of parchment into his back-pocket, he walked towards the wall behind which the Room of Requirement lay. Pacing in front of the wall, Harry thought strongly about the words which he had read on the parchment. "_I need a place to train the magic of the uncontrolled. I need a place to train the magic of the uncontrolled. I need a place to train the magic of the uncontrolled._"

It was an ingenious little sentence, really. No one would guess that that would be the sentence to open the room. Normally, people would have just used the sentence "I need a room to train in", but Blaise and Draco had elaborated, making the Room of Requirement much more detailed to what they would need for it to do. And also making it much more secure in the process.

As Harry knew would happen, dark etching started to become visible in the wall, twirling around and slowly forming a pattern. Lines moves quickly around the markings, making the outline of the doors which would be formed soon by the magic of the Room of Requirement. The markings slowly became more visible, until the wriggling in the wall slowly came to a halt, in a motion which announced the finishing of the appearance of the door. The whole process only took a few seconds.

Harry studied the beautifully ornamented door for a moment, before he walked towards it. No matter how often he had seen the Room of Requirement's door, it always amazed him in its beauty. Up close, one could see the many flowers entwined in each other which decorated the door. The stems were sometimes wrapped around another stem, while most of them had thorns. Black roses were engraved deep into the door, while black tulips, which stems didn't have any thorns, were in relief on the door.

Raising his hand, he put it on the door without any hesitation, while still admiring the beauty that magic had just created in front of his eyes. But as soon as Harry had touched the door, it groaned in slight protest, before swinging open widely, in a large inwards bow.

Harry glanced at the room in front of him, and was unsurprised by its bareness. Of course it would be bare of any extras, they were going to be working with magic. A single dummy was in the room though, not quite in the middle, where Harry knew he was going to be standing.

Taking a step inside, Harry studied the bare room a bit more. He could practically see the magic lining the walls, ceiling and the floor, to keep it from being destroyed. This was the same magic that had withstood the Fiendfire not a year ago. Fiendfire, being the strongest magical fire there was, except maybe Dragonfire, had been unable to destabilize the room. Harry doubted that he would be able to, not that he would want to destroy this room. No, if nothing else, he wanted to keep it as intact as humanly possible.

The door swung closed behind him, and behind the cover of the door, he could see something he hadn't been able to see on his first and second sweep of the room. A glass, magical glass, wall stood there, to the side of the room. Behind the glass, Harry could see two lush chairs, on which Blaise and Draco were sitting, quite clearly bickering with one another about something.

Harry stared in amusement as Draco plopped down on his chair in a huff, clearly having lost his argument with Blaise, whatever it had been about. Turning away from Blaise, looking slightly irritated, Draco was now staring at the wall. Opposed to Blaise, who had turned to look at Harry with amusement visible in his eyes.

Quirking a uncomfortable smile at Blaise, Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He had no idea as to what he should expect this lesson. Indeed, he was still wondering if it was a good idea to have even come here, where the two guys he continuously dreamed about where chatting comfortably with one another. It seemed impossible that he would ever get that what he needed, what his magic needed. Which made the prospect of having lessons with those two all the harder for him.

Indeed, at first, Harry had protested as soon as Neville told him the news over breakfast. Neville had calmly said that he would be having lessons about control with Blaise and Draco twice a week. Harry had immediately yelled in protest, fearing that his magic would go insane if it was so near to those two for the hours of lessons they had planned. Neville had waved his protests off, and simply said that Blaise alone could keep his magic in line very well. That had effectively cut off any further protest Harry might have had.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, trying to get his mind off of mentally swearing at Neville, only to find that Blaise was no longer behind the glass, but was now in fact standing in front of him. His eyes widened slightly, before he diverted his eyes slightly, hiding his small blush, mortified.

"Yes?" Harry murmured softly, looking everywhere but at Blaise. Blaise didn't seem to notice, because he was busy asking the room for some changes to the dummy.

"We will be doing this step by step, at first without the dummy. Me and Draco will be sitting behind the glass for safety measures, if your magic does decide to go hay-wire."

Harry nodded, and watched at Blaise went to sit besides Draco once more, who had deigned to turn around and turn his attention towards a nervous Harry. Draco gave him a 'Good luck, you'll need it' smile, and Harry smiled back, an unsure look in his eyes, as if he didn't trust his magic not to go wild this lesson.

"We will start simple. First, fire a _Lumos_." Harry looked at Blaise as if he was insane, but as the boy just kept looking at him, waiting for him to comply, Harry lifted his wand. With a bored wave, and a whispered _Lumos_, the tip of his wand lit up with an easy to look at light.

"Good, good. Stop it again. Now, you were probably wondering why I asked you to do that?" Harry had said a soft _Nox_, before he nodded, curious as to the answer. "We needed it as a reference. We are going to ask you to overpower your spells. Not just a bit, but as much as you think you could do." Harry blinked in surprise. Whatever he had suspected for these lessons, this wasn't it.

"First, overpower the _Lumos Minimus_, after that overpower the normal _Lumos_, and after that, you will overpower the _Lumos Maximus_. Remember, use as much power as you can. We will know when you don't, and then you'll have to do the spell again."

Harry nodded at Draco when the boy spoke up, before he turned to stare at his wand. With a little shake of his head, he turned his stare to a wall. If he looking straight into a _Lumos_, he would have had trouble seeing for quite a while. More trouble then he normally had, of course.

Shaking his head again, Harry tried to clear it from all the minor thoughts he didn't need for this process. Closing his eyes, Harry started concentrating. Pooling inside him, Harry could feel his agitated magic, waiting for Harry to call it forward, to cast a spell, any spell. Harry pondered it for a moment, before he started to direct a steady flow of magic through his arm. Making sure that the flow would stay steady, so that he could overpower the spell to the maximum, Harry's eyes snapped open.

Blaise and Draco stared patiently at the boy who was concentrating as much as possible, with his eyes tightly closed. But as soon as they saw Harry relax, they realized that he must have found his magic. It stayed quiet for another few seconds, before Harry's eyes snapped open. Blaise and Draco could only stare at the glowing red eyes, red in a color which was eerily similar to the color Voldemort's eyes had once been.

"_Lumos Minimus!_"

Harry, Blaise and Draco all watched as light exploded. A steady stream of light started pouring from Harry's wand, straight up to the ceiling of the Room of Requirement. Harry openly stared in surprise while his eyes turned its normal _Avada Kedavra_green color again.

All of sudden, the constant stream of light cut off, removing itself from the tip of Harry's wand. But the magical light above him wasn't done yet, and the three young men watched as the light was gathered together, creating a thick cloud of pure light. For a few seconds it moved, before it seemed to stiffen. No further movements were made.

Blaise slowly stood, and walked from behind the glass wall, so that he could see the light clearer. Studying it for a moment, a grin formed on his face. "Well, Harry, you covered the whole ceiling with your _Lumos Minimus_. I think it is fair to say that you overpowered it. I do believe though, that to end it, you'll have to overpower the _Nox Minimus_as well."

Harry nodded at him, and waited until Blaise was behind the glass wall again, before attempting to do just that. His eyes once again closed, only it took him shorter this time to locate and direct his magic. Once he his eyes snapped open again, though, his eyes were a bloody red color again.

"_Nox Minimus!_"

The light which covered the ceiling started moving again, spinning around wildly, as if searching for something. A small hurricane started forming from the cloud of light, slowly stretching down. The bottom tip of the hurricane stretched further and further, until it finally touched the tip of Harry's wand. As soon as they came in contact with one another, the hurricane seemed to be sucked into the wand at high speed. After two short seconds, the light which had once covered the ceiling was gone again.

Blinking quickly, Harry's eyes slowly adjusted to the now back to slightly dark room. Looking around, especially around the ceiling, Harry found that he had put out every bit of the _Lumos Minimus_. A small chuckle had him looking to the right, were Blaise stood with a pleased smile.

"Well done, Harry. That was a beautiful display of magic. Are you ready to try the _Lumos_ charm? It will probably be a bit more taxing than the _Lumos Minimus_."

Harry nodded, and Blaise disappeared behind the glass once more, taking his seat next to Draco. As soon as he was seated, Harry turned to face the interesting wall of the Room of Requirement again, giving his wand a short glance, curious as to what the normal _Lumos_ would look like if the _Lumos Minimus_had already done so much.

His eyes closed again, but this time he didn't even have to feel around, or his magic answered him, eager to be put to use again. Harry let a small smile appear around his lips, before he opened his eyes again, unaware that they were once more blood red. Raising his hand which had his wand grasped between slender fingers, he let magic travel through his arm, up to his hand and wand.

"_Lumos!_"

Harry spoke strongly, while he directed his wand in the short and swift movement it had to make to make the spell work properly. His magic, anxious to answer to his call, sprang forward half through the wand movement, and the spell began to do its work.

A small bulb of light appeared above the tip of Harry's wand, starting out dim. But gradually the light turned brighter and brighter, while it also started to grow in size. None too soon, Harry had a football sized ball of light floating above the tip of his wand.

Keeping concentrated, Harry kept flowing magic towards the ball of light, but it didn't grow anymore. Feeling that it was still doing _something_, Harry didn't stop the steady flow. That quickly proved to be the right thing to do.

The ball of light started pulsing, first slowly, before it steadily speeded up, throbbing and wriggling around as if it was restricted. It seemed to need even more magic, so Harry happily complied. Feeding more and more magic into the ball of light, it gave a long and slow pulse, before it pulsed outward.

Circles of light escaped from the ball, and zoomed towards the sides of the room, slamming into the walls and glass placed of the room. As quickly as the pulsing ball of light had let off that circle, it pulsed again, and again, and again. With every pulse came a circle of light, which quickly moved outwards, slamming into the sides of the room.

Harry stopped feeding the ball the constant flow of magic he had given it, and stared at the circles of light that kept flowing out of the ball which slowly got dimmer and dimmer now that he had stopped giving it the constant magic flow it had had before.

It took a few more seconds, before the ball shrank again, and grew dim, giving off enough light like a normal, not overpowered _Lumos_ normally does. Harry studied it for a moment, before deciding that a normal _Nox_would do to put this one out.

"_Nox._"

The soft whisper made the light ball blink for a few seconds, before it shranks even more, the magic seeping back into his wand. As soon as the magical ball of light was fully absorbed back into the wand, Harry grinned widely. That had been so much _fun_!

With a wide grin on his face, Harry turned towards the glass panel. Or rather, he turned to where the glass panel had once been. Blinking furiously, he stared at where Blaise and Draco sat on their seats, a strong _Protego Maximus_shielding them now, instead of the glass panel. The two boys were smirking as well, amused to no end that Harry's magic had destroyed the magically enhanced glass wall.

"I'll say, well done Harry." Draco let amusement line his voice while he said that, his smirk only widening when Harry rubbed his head shyly. He wasn't used yet to the compliments he seemed to keep getting from the two Slytherins. They seemed to be very insistent in complimenting him to no end. Either that, or they just wanted to make him embarrassed and shy. Either could be true.

"I think you know what to do next, don't you?" Harry nodded at Blaise, and he once again turned away from them, to once again stare at the wall. He realized that Draco and Blaise were quick to reinforce the _Protego Maximus_, so as not to take any risks. If a normal _Lumos_ had shattered the glass wall so easily, with the first pulse, then they wouldn't wait to see how much destruction the _Lumos Maximus_would do. It was better to be prepared first, and not see the consequences of not having prepared.

Harry closed his eyes again, this time out of habit rather than needing it to concentrate on searching his magic. A quick look around, had him realizing in surprise that his magic was already creating a funnel towards his hand and wand, so that it could be accessed easier, faster and more efficiently. This would be very useful in the coming magical classes, Harry realized. He could use that funnel to make his magic spells stronger.

With a small shake of his head, Harry snapped back into what he was doing originally, namely directing the magic flow into the funnel it had created. As soon as it was a bit into the funnel, he felt the magic beginning a steady flow, ready to be used. And that is what he did. His eyes opened once again, a calm and happy look visible in the blood red eyes.

"_Lumos Maximus._"

This time, he didn't yell it, like he had the previous times. He didn't feel the need to intone such force behind the spell like he had the last times. This time his magic was ready to be used, not forced, not pushed. Harry only had to open some sort of plug from the funnel his magic had created, and his magic streamed out, directed by the words of the spell he had intoned.

Once again, a ball of light formed around the tip of his wand. But with the constant stream of magic it got, it quickly grew to double its size, moving around as if anxious. With a frown, Harry poured some more magic into the ball, and saw how one point on the ball of light turned a blue like yellow. The blue indicated that it was growing hotter and hotter at that point.

Then, suddenly and without any warning beforehand, it poured out. A steady beam of blue-yellowish light poured from the ball, and concentrated on one bit of the bare wall in front of Harry. It slammed into the wall with a hearable smack, making the wall groan in the force of the impact.

The three boys in the room could only stare in surprise, their eyes wide in disbelief as the beam turned the wall a hot red in just a few seconds, melting the magic covering the walls away slowly. The warmth spread around the wall at an alarming rate, and Harry knew he had to stop the spell soon. That was a real pity, because the laser beam was so beautiful. It was with regret that Harry muttered the next two words.

"_Nox Maximus._"

The beam seemed to pause in midstream, and it started to come free of the wall, moving back towards the ball of magic that was still floating above his wand. When it came in contact with that ball, the light seemed to dim almost immediately, the magic having been sucked dry from it with the force and heat of the beam.

With a last pulse of the ball, it connected with the tip of his wand again. Neither of the three boys had noticed that it had disconnected from his wand so as to prevent it from being burnt completely. As soon as the ball touched the tip of the wand, it was sucked into it, as though someone had pulled the plug out of the drain of a bath tub.

When the light was sucked away completely, Harry looked up from where he had been staring at his wand. Looking at the wall which was still glowing a hot red color, he blushed. He had almost burned down one of the walls of the Room of Requirement. That could have been disastrous. A low clapping noise made him look up, and to where Blaise and Draco were seated.

"Well done, Harry. That was wonderful!" Draco had twinkles in his eyes, not much unlike Dumbledore had on occasions. Standing, Draco swiftly walked towards the glowing wall, and inspected it. Blaise, who had also stood, walked towards Harry. "That was indeed a splendid demonstration. Though I must warn you not to do that too often." An amused glance at the wall had Harry blushing again. "We were lucky that that wall was magically reinforced, otherwise I am unsure as to what would have been left of it."

Harry shrugged lightly, still mesmerized by the fact that his overpowered _Lumos Maximus_had created a laser beam. He couldn't call it any less, as it had, in fact, looked very much like one of those laser beams he had often seen in movies. Other than the fact that those were mostly red, and probably not as hot as his had been.

"Now, are you ready for something completely different and probably quite draining?"

Harry looked up, a curious look in his eyes as to what else they could possibly have in store for him. Other than the overpowering, Harry wasn't sure as to what they could do that Harry normally didn't do in classes anyways.

"We are going to let you relive a memory. A battle."

Eyes widened. Yes, that would be draining, especially if he had to project the memory for the whole room to see. This would be quite tricky, especially if they had him relive the memory of defeating Voldemort. And he was pretty sure that he was going to relive that one. It had been one of the most draining battles Harry had ever fought.

Staring at both young men in silence, Harry thought it over carefully. He didn't notice it when he took on a defensive stance in habit, a stance which made sure that the two men wouldn't approach him right now, while he was thinking. As it was well known that the last fan-girl who had done so had ended up in the hospital wing very fast and not entirely painless.

There were cons to the plan Blaise and Draco had cooked up. Lots of them, actually. For once, Harry would relive a battle which he had tried not to relive. Sure, it had all gone to plan and he had even saved the lives of some people, but he had also lost some people in that fight. People, whom nobody knew but whom had been friends and close allies to Harry, had died for him in that fight. It would be painful to remember it, to fight it all over again.

But it would also help him. Harry couldn't deny that. It could help him in remembering what they died for, that they died in the hope that their deaths would help the world set itself right again. That their deaths hadn't been in vain. It would not do to forget those people whom had sacrificed themselves that battle.

Maybe that was the reason that Harry agreed to the ridiculous, but very good, idea of the two young men. Secretly, Harry also wanted to show the two men exactly how the battle was won. Only those who had been chosen by Harry himself had been there. No one else. And of those privy to witness the Final Battle, as it had been dubbed, no one had ever revealed the story to the press. No, the Final Battle had been shrouded in complete mystery. No one outside that little group knew what had happened, how it had all ended.

Harry looked up, and stared into the eyes of the silent Blaise and Draco. They knew what they were asking of Harry, knew that no one else would have ever seen the Final Battle. As when the memory would be relived, it would be seen by all in the room. But no matter how much Blaise and Draco wanted to see what had actually happened, their first thoughts had been to the spells Harry could have used. They needed to know on what level Harry was in order for them to proceed these lessons properly.

It was quiet for another few moments in the room, just the three young men staring at each other, one judging the other two, and the other two waiting in patience, maybe with baited breaths. Then suddenly, Harry's head whipped around to look at the dummy.

"You need to be reinforced heavily, dummy-Voldemort." Harry mused, before he cast some spells at it.

This sentence made Blaise and Draco smile in relief. Apparently, Harry had agreed to do it. Turning around, they walked back to their chairs, fully expecting to set up their _Protego_ again. A wave of magic stopped them though.

"You will need more than that to survive the magic thrown around. This illusion will be as real as possible, so beware of any magic heading your way, as you might even feel the curse itself. _Protego Maximus Sorbere!_"

Harry didn't give Blaise and Draco enough time to set up their own wards, having shot a very much overpowered _Protego Maximus Sorbere_. This ward in question would suck up any magic that came into contact with the shield. And the wonderful thing of it, the magic it sapped out of the spell would only help in reinforcing the shield itself.

Harry didn't feel like wasting anymore time, and turned to face the dummy, which would change into dummy-Voldemort very soon. He studied the dummy silently, as if very fascinated by its straw body, of course reinforced with magic. Cocking his head from one side to the other, Harry pondered the distance between himself and the dummy. Then he took a few steps back, and one to the left.

"Perfect...this is how it started."

With those simple words, the Room of Requirement distorted into an all too familiar scenario for Harry. All around him, the battle scene which he had been a part of not very long ago came to life once again. Black robed figure appeared all around him, and the dummy transformed into Lord Voldemort himself.

Harry sat on his knees when ropes appeared around his wrists, knowing that he would enact the illusion exactly as to how it had been in the real Final Battle. Which included him being in the middle of a large circle of black clad figures whom all seemed to be Death Eaters. And, of course, in front of Voldemort himself.

"Harry Potter."

A low hissing seemed to come from directly in front of him, and Harry stiffened. The voice, it sounded so real...it sounded like Voldemort, _exactly_ like Voldemort. Even its low hissing quality was slightly hear-able, like it had been when Voldemort had still been alive. But even so, Harry looked up towards the hissing figure. And of course, Voldemort was stepping from behind his first line of Death Eaters, to walk only a few steps inside the man-made circle of Death. Or at least, that is what Voldemort had called it just before Harry had been captured. If he remembered correctly, that is.

"You will die tonight, Harry Potter, and I shall reign over the forever prospering lands of the United Kingdom. Soon to be followed by the vast lands of the world!"

Voldemort, even in all of its illusion glory, still seemed to have a bit of an awesome-complex. Other than ignoring the fact that there were Dark Wizards in America stronger than him, Voldemort also forgot about all the muggles that wouldn't hesitate in putting a bullet in his heart. Hopefully that would kill him.

"No, I do not plan on dying tonight, Tom."

An angered hiss sounded from Voldemort at Harry's use of his real name. Voldemort had despised that name until the very end, and he had not been overly amused by Harry's constant and very insistent use of it. Indeed, he had seemed very angry by it all. Especially when Harry started talking again, and shocking quite a lot of the Death Eaters, and Voldemort, by his short display if intellect.

"You are not the only one to have spies in the others ranks, Tom."

This time, the hissing laughter made quite a large number of Death Eaters scatter away from their Lord, probably in fear of being eaten by the snake-like human...thing. It was probably a valid fear as well, but Harry wasn't going to dwell on that now. Not when it was just about to get to the fun part.

"If you are talking about Snape, I have..."

Lord Voldemort was rudely interrupted by someone else their laughter. This sound, however, didn't sound like a snake dying on a cold day. No, this was the laughter of a very sane, and very amused Boy-Who-Lived. Laughter was wrecking his thin frame, while he had difficulty with staying upright in his sitting position. He wouldn't fall to the floor, that would be just a tad bit too undignified.

"Snape? No, he isn't my spy. Why would _Snape_ ever work for me, Tommy-boy? He would rather carve my heart out to use it in some sort of new potion. Maybe for _Felix Felicius_. I do seem to have a strangely large amount of luck around somewhere. Probably in my brain. Does that mean he'll use my brain than, instead of my heart?"

Harry seemed to have lost it, he was babbling and babbling, seeming to ignore the madman standing not too far away from him, and the Death Eaters who were glancing around in suspicion, each now thinking of the other as the spy that Harry had just mentioned. It was quite amusing to see such a large group of Death Eaters suddenly becoming wary of one another. Voldemort, however, couldn't see the humor in it.

"_Crucio!_"

That was the signal they had all agreed on. As soon as Voldemort would cast the first spell, which, of course, was his trademark _Crucio_, the real battle would begin. A roar sounded throughout the ranks of the Death Eaters, and before the masked men and women could look around for the source, answering howls sounded from deep within the cleared-out village they were in.

This howling abruptly cut off Voldemort's _Crucio_, and Harry winced when the spasms wrecked through his body once more. This didn't stop him from noticing a few Death Eaters falling down, however, with their hearts ripped out via their backs. Screeches sounded within the Death Eater ranks, before one suddenly cried: "Get Greyback! Get him! He's the traitor!"

At the exact same moment that was said, doors slammed open all around the village. Which, apparently, hadn't been cleared all that well. Growling Werewolves stalked out of the homes, straight towards the silent group of Death Eaters, and the stunned Voldemort. Harry grinned widely, his bindings having fallen off because of the spasms the _Crucio _initiated, and snapped his fingers.

Rustling was heard close-by, before a single beautiful girl jumped off a branch from a nearby tree. She landed elegantly on her feet, and slowly padded closer to Harry, completely ignoring Voldemort while evading the quick _Crucio_ Voldemort threw at her.

"We are ready, Harry Potter." The girl whispered softly, before her beautiful face distorted when a demonic looking smile grew on her face. "We will always be ready."

Her words were followed by the agreeing howls of the Werewolves, who were quickly overcoming the outer ring of Death Eaters by now, taking them down one by one. Harry had spelled each of their bodies so heavily before the battle, that every spell just slid off of them, or rebounded back towards the Death Eater which had cast the spell at them in the first place. Only the Darkest of spells weren't rebounded, but the Werewolves were swift enough to evade those.

"_Umbra Fulmine_!"

Harry's evaluations of the battle around him were quickly stopped by Voldemort, who shouted a Black spell straight at him. The girl immediately stepped away, back to the lining of trees by the side of the village, so as not to get caught in the cross-fire.

"_Ignis Flagellum!_"

This was shouted from Harry's side, and his wand started glowing. Fire spewed out of his wand in a steamy stream, and he flicked his wrist. The long stream of fire, which was attached to the tip of his slightly glowing wand, hit the _Umbra Fulmine_ head on.

A piece of Black magic was chipped off, and sent deep into the Death Eater ranks, wounding a few Death Eaters in a fatal matter. The rest of the bolt kept heading towards Harry though, but a few Quick whips of his Fire Whip remedied that. The Shadow Bolt was chipped into small pieces, and the only thing the curse ended up killing, were a few non-important Death Eaters.

As soon as the curse was dispelled in this most interesting manner, Harry grinned, letting his own spell fade. His grin only widened when he saw Voldemort glaring at him. That meant that Old Tom probably hadn't expected Harry to use anything but his supposed trade mark spell, _Expelliarmus_. Oh, how wrong Voldemort was.

Harry was about to taunt Voldemort, but the self-proclaimed Dark Lord lifted his wand again. By the time Harry had lifted his wand as well, he noticed too late that the wand wasn't pointed at him. Horrified, Harry stared as the _Avada Kedavra_, which had been spoken wordlessly, zipped passed him, slamming into the chest of a Werewolf.

Twisting around, Harry ignored Voldemort all together, trusting on his magic to warn him if Voldemort tried anything. Harry ran towards the body of the fallen Werewolf, which was twisting in a few last moments of agony, returning to human form. Only then, would he die.

Harry gripped the changing shoulders of Fenrir Greyback tightly, while a few tears slipped down his cheeks. "No, uncle, no..." Harry whispered, hugging the man he considered family close to him. "No...Please no!" Harry's cry of distress warned the other Werewolves, whom immediately ran towards him, trampling any Death Eaters in their way.

Fenrir opened his mouth in his last few seconds, because in a few seconds, the curse would do its job, no longer prolonged by the killing of the inner wolf. "Take care of Remus, son." Fenrir whispered, and Harry's eyes teared up even more. Fenrir had just claimed him as his cub, his son. "I will, dad, you know I will." Those few last words went unheard. In fact, "dad" was the last word Fenrir heard.

Fenrir Greyback, the notorious Werewolf, rumored child murderer, died with a smile of peace on his face. Harry gripped the dead body of his uncle-turned-dad closer to himself, and a cry of agony slipped past his lips once more. Answering howl sounded from the werewolves around him, the loudest coming from Remus Lupin. Fenrir had been Remus' mate.

Raising himself on his hind-legs, Remus howled towards the other Werewolves. One of them nudged the body of Fenrir Greyback with his nose, before the Werewolf's magic transported Fenrir's body away from here. That took Harry back into reality.

Instantly, Harry stood, his head whipping around to where Voldemort stood, laughing. Oh, he wouldn't be laughing very soon, if the look of pure murder on Harry's face was any indication. Stalking forwards, Harry entered the circle of Death Eaters through a gap made by the Werewolves. Whistling sharply, Harry raised his wand once again.

This time, he was the one who caught Voldemort and his Death Eaters off guard. His sharp whistling had summoned some more help, help which would eradicate the Death Eaters around him, together with the Werewolves.

Elves dropped from the air, their magic slowing their fall enough for them not to fall to their deaths. The Death Eaters they landed on weren't so lucky though, if the pointy swords sticking out of their chests was any way to judge that. Quiet gurgles were heard around the Death Eaters, those being the last things they would ever grunt in their lives.

The Elves landed in a clear circle around Harry and Voldemort, facing inwards. Their specialized magic kept the Death Eaters at bay, while their swords were planted in front of them. One by one, they started kneeling, their hands never leaving the tight grip they had on their bloodied swords. Harry was staring straight at Voldemort, a grim smile on his face. Voldemort was too busy staring at the Elves to notice that Harry's eyes were practically spitting fire at him.

"We, the Elves of the House of Aragorn, swear our loyalty to Harry James Potter, the Childe of Magic. We shall do as you command, and shan't go against your decisions. Do not take our allegiance lightly, and you shall have the Elves in your battles and your times of peace."

It was the female from before who spoke, her voice clear even through the snarling and fighting still going on between the Death Eaters and the Werewolves. Magic twisted to the air, and repressed Voldemort temporarily. This was done so that no one could interfere in the specialized allegiance bond being created.

"I, Harry James Potter, Childe of Magic, accept your allegiance. I shall treat you like equals, I shall treat you like you deserve. You shall always have a say with my decision. I shan't take this allegiance lightly. In return for their allegiance, I shall offer my allegiance to the Elves of the House of Aragorn. I shall be available to your Highness and her Council at all times, shall she need it."

The female Elf stood when magic solidified their bond, and a smile started forming around her lips. After she stood, the other Elves followed. "Then we shall fight! Fight to the death! Spill as much blood as you can! Spare no one! Take no prisoners! Protect the ones who need protecting! This battle is ours!"

The Death Eaters stared in horror as the Elves, which were considered a myth even in their world, raised their swords up high, shouts of agreements being shouted into the air, while their lust for blood spilling shone in their eyes like diamonds. Then they turned around, and charged straight into the Death Eaters, swords swinging and spells zipping through the air.

"So, what now, Tom?"

Harry was hissing angrily at Voldemort, having not forgotten his dad for even a second in his whole speech. Indeed, that recent tragedy had only made his bond, his allegiance, with the Elves stronger.

"Shall we fight, or shall you flee? Shall you battle, and shall you lose? Shall you bow, and admit defeat?"

Voldemort let out a roar in anger as he saw his Death Eaters being taken down like leaves by both the Werewolves and the Elves. His wand was raised in a flash, and an _Avada Kedavra_ shot straight towards Harry. Harry easily sidestepped the curse, and watched as the spell was absorbed by the wards the Elves had erected around them. He grinned. Really predictable.

"So you have chosen. Let's fight them! We shall fight until the end! A fight to the death! _Caetus Dentes!_"

The spell that zipped from Harry's wand, quickly started forming into some sort of moving wall right in front of Harry. It quickly morphed into a big sharks' mouth, with the magical mouth being wide open. Teeth of magic were quickly racing towards Voldemort, who looked at the spell in horror, having recognized its incantation.

The wide open mouth of magic raced towards Voldemort at high speeds. Rapid spells were fired at it, in the vain hope of dispelling the old magic curse. The spells hit it at different spots, but each and every time, the spell was absorbed in the magic, making the mouth only grow in size, and the teeth seem sharper.

Within seconds, the spell reached Voldemort, and it loomed over him. Voldemort could be seem staring straight into the open mouth, a look of pure, completely justified, horror visible in his eyes. The mouth descended, covering Voldemort entirely, before it snapped shut. But, instead of tearing Voldemort to pieces, the Dark Lord stayed intact. That didn't make him feel relieved.

It didn't take long for a cry of agony to be heard coming from the Dark Lord. Voldemort was struggling against the spell, battling it with magic. Harry grinned, and jeered Voldemort some more.

"Feed it, Tom. It is hungry!"

Harry knew he would need to stop the spell soon, otherwise it would consume him as it was consuming Voldemort's magic. Of course, it wouldn't be able to completely rid Voldemort of his magic, but it would make him very near powerless. He wouldn't be able to fire a _Crucio_ or _Avada Kedavra_ again. Which, of course, increased Harry's changed of living by a great margin. And that was always a plus if you asked Harry.

With a hiss, Harry flicked his wand sideways, and the spell snapped. The mouth of the shark of magic disintegrated into empty air, its magic feeding the wards surrounding Harry and Voldemort. Which succeeded in making those wards stronger.

Panting, Harry looked up. That spell wasn't an easy one to fire successfully. There were enough reasons as to why it was an illegal curse. Someone who had mediocre magic would immediately be consumed by the spell, magically and physically. No matter if he was the caster, or the one the spell was fired at. The danger of self-destruction was so big, that it was barely ever used, even by the Darker Wizards. Harry even knew for a fact that Voldemort had never used that particular curse, afraid of weakening himself.

Harry looked towards Voldemort curiously, who was shaking off the after-effects of the spells, namely agony greater than the _Crucio_ could ever accomplish. Standing on shaky legs, the Dark Lord stared in horror at Harry, disbelieve clear on his face. It only made Harry's grin wider. He hadn't thought it would be this easy...No, it hadn't been this easy. He had lost family.

Tears gathered near the corners of his eyes again, but his magic reacted in a different way. It was roaring with anger inside of him, begging to be let out, to be used, to destroy, erase, vaporize. So Harry let it, not wanting to lose any other ally, another friend, another member of his tight family. He would not allow it.

Shouting in pure anger, mixed with pure agony at the missing bond he had had with Fenrir, his magic burst outwards when he released the tight grip he had had on it before. Immediately, the Elves winced as they felt the strong magic battling against the walls, before sighing in relief when Harry's magic realized they didn't mean it harm.

Harry closed his eyes, and clearly visualized what he wanted, portraying that image to his magic, so that it could dispose of Voldemort for once and for all. His magic answered, happy and quick to agree with disposal of what it saw as an immediate and dangerous threat.

Leaping forwards, the magic morphed into a great hound of hell. Elves, Werewolves and Death Eaters alike screeched when they felt the demonic presence fill the air, Voldemort's scream of fright and disbelieve hanging in the air. Clasping their hands over their ears, Magical Creatures and Humans alike stared in fascination, and horror in the case of Death Eaters, at the Hell Hound which was bounding towards Voldemort in a few quick steps.

The last moments of the Dark Lord seemed to go in slow-motion. Voldemort tried to raise his wand in an attempt to attack the Hell Hound, only to find that it had melted when his magical core had been ripped apart. His core, in fact, had so few magic, that attempting wandless magic at this point would be fatal for him.

It was a scream of pure agony that marked the defeat of Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Hell Hound ripped into him, tearing his torso from his body with a mighty claw. Pointed teeth were clamped around the head of the dying Lord Voldemort, chewing on it as if it was a tasty bone.

It didn't take a minute for every last bit of Voldemort to disappear. In fact, it barely took a few seconds. The Hell Hound consumed all there was to eat of the now Ex-Dark Lord, before it stopped its movements. Turning around, it walked back towards Harry in a few steps, halting in front of him, staring down at the panting human, who was almost magically exhausted.

Lying down, so that his head was level with the head of Harry, the Hell Hound sniffed him with his wet nose. Red eyes seemed to stare in Harry's soul, judging him. And finding him worthy. The Hell Hounds' tongue rolled out of its mouth, before it gave Harry a big, sloppy lick with it's blackened tongue. Standing again, it seemed to smirk at the surprised and spit covered Harry, before it disappeared, to go back to hell, where Harry had summoned him from.

As soon as the Hell Hound disappeared, Harry felt the strain of the spell really take a hold of him, and he sagged towards the ground in a boneless heap. Panting heavily, Harry placed his full trust in the Elves and Werewolves, trusting them to take care of him. The last thing he saw before he fell into blissful unconsciousness, were the eyes of Remus staring worriedly at him.

Remus, who was swiftly morphing into what seemed to be Blaise Zabini. That was the last thing he remembered before sinking into the depths of magical exhaustion, lying on the cold stone floor in the Room of Requirement, unconscious, and at the mercy of two worried Slytherins.

* * *

><p><em><em>Childe of Magic: This is a way for Elves to name wizards and witches they feel earn their respect. And very few ever earn the respect of the Elves.<em>_

Caetus dentes = Shark Teeth  
>Ignis Flagellum<p>

_ = Fire Whip  
><em>Umbra Fulmine<em> = Shadow Bolt  
>R&amp;R<em>


End file.
